


Unlucky Stars

by Golden_Moon_Huntress



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004), A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, The Bad Beginning but if there was just like a ton of Baudelaires, The Baudelaires have a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 42,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Moon_Huntress/pseuds/Golden_Moon_Huntress
Summary: Perhaps it should be said the Baudelaire siblings were born to be unlucky, for there was an unlucky number of them. But to them, all that meant was that they would never be alone. No matter what happened, the Baudelaire siblings would be there to support each other.Inspired by other fics featuring multiplied Baudelaires, AU of The Bad Beginning, many OCs.
Relationships: There are so many Baudelaires I can't tag all the relationships, Uhhh... and all the Damien/Indigo/Lavender/Elias/Sofia/Finn/Loki/Kyra/Phoebe/Noah variations, Violet Baudelaire & Klaus Baudelaire, Violet Baudelaire & Klaus Baudelaire & Sunny Baudelaire, Violet Baudelaire & Sunny Baudelaire, just a ton of sibling relationships
Comments: 30
Kudos: 19





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU heavily inspired by midas_touch_of_angst's Six Siblings AU and other fics here involving multiplied Baudelaires. Effectively, this was me wondering if people were just going to keep adding kids to the family, and how ridiculous it would be, and so… whatever this is was born!  
> The story mostly follows the plot of the first book, with some detours and a ton of extra characters in the form of the Baudelaire siblings. All of them, except one who was added to make up the numbers lol, do have a basis/inspiration for where they came from.

It was a grey and cloudy morning, and the Baudelaire siblings were visiting Briny Beach. Grey and cloudy days were the best times to visit Briny Beach, because when it was warmer, it would be clouded with tourists, but while it was grey and dreary, the Baudelaires had the beach to themselves.

This was a good thing, for the Baudelaires’ trips to the beach were always chaotic.

Indeed, their trips anywhere were always chaotic.

This was not due to cruel intention, but simply because the Baudelaire children were very gifted and very, very intelligent youngsters, and one of them was sure to get into something they shouldn’t, despite the best efforts of their eldest siblings.

This meant grey, dreary days when the beach would be empty were the best times for the siblings to visit, and so their parents had sent them off earlier that morning with money for the rickety old trolley to spend the day out of the house as long as they were home in time for dinner.

Violet Baudelaire, the oldest, liked to invent things. Currently, her long, dark hair was tied up in a ribbon as she worked on her latest invention.

“Stop moving! I’m adjusting it!”

“It’s uncomfortable!” protested Damien. He was the second oldest Baudelaire child, the oldest boy, and Violet’s twin brother. He enjoyed physical endeavours, such as running, swimming, and martial arts, and could often be found testing out Violet’s inventions for her. Currently, he was wearing a large metal contraption on his back, which Violet was checking was secure.

“Ah, Violet?” ventured her sister, Indigo. She was the second Baudelaire daughter, only eleven months younger than the twins, and a bit of a worrier. Like her older sister, Indigo liked to work with machinery, mechanics, and unusual looking devices, but she preferred to improve the things that already existed instead of building new ones, especially if they were going to end up looking like the one Damien was currently wearing. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course. The only way to test it now is, well, to test it.”

“Have faith in us,” said Damien with a grin. 

“Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt,” Indigo said.

“Of course not. We’ll go to Sofia.”

“Indigo!” Lavender shouted over the sound of the sea rushing in to the shore, where she and Finn were crouched with a picnic basket between them. “Come and tell me what we’re doing wrong with this!”

Indigo hurried over to join them before they caused some great disaster.

Lavender was the third of the Baudelaire girls, and just under a year younger than Indigo at thirteen. She disliked wearing shoes, and today she was barefoot on the wet sand. Unlike her sisters, Lavender was not an inventor. She preferred to dance, and had been taking ballet classes for years. But she had absorbed some technical skills from her older siblings, and did sometimes get the urge to build things to satisfy her own curiosity, such as the one they had now in the picnic basket. Unfortunately, said inventions did have a habit of going badly.

“What’s it meant to do?” Indigo asked.

“It’s meant to go and fetch the stones when we skim them,” Finn explained. Finn was ten years old, quiet, and often overlooked in the chaos that was his family. He loved music: listening to it, writing it, and playing it. He played both the violin and the piano, and was learning to play the guitar. Currently, his violin was lying in its case a few feet away.

“But we can’t make it work right.”

“Metamyan!” squealed Phoebe, who was sat behind them on the sand. Phoebe was the third youngest member of the Baudelaire family, a little under two years old and at an age where she had learned a few words but mostly communicated with a series of garbled nonsense. She was a bubbly, cheerful girl, something which here means Lavender liked to dress her up in brightly coloured toddler costumes. Today, she was dressed as a cowboy for some reason.

“Okay, let me have a look.” Indigo pried the basket open and peered inside at the inner mechanics. She was sure there was a pattern to Lavender’s scatterbrained ideas somewhere here. There usually was.

A ball flew past them, dangerously close to Phoebe. It was quickly followed by a large, hairy blur.

“Loki! Mind where you’re throwing that!” Indigo shouted.

“Sorry!” Loki shouted back. He did not look sorry. Loki was seven years old and the second youngest boy of the Baudelaire children. He liked animals, reading about animals, and finding new animals. Currently, he was playing with a large black dog he had inventively named ‘Dog,’ who he had adopted after finding him wandering the streets and being unable to find his owner.

“Dog!” shouted Kyra, who was chasing after Dog on her short little legs in an attempt to fetch the ball back. Kyra was the third youngest girl of the siblings, four years old, and old enough to speak in short sentences. She was interested in chess, history audiobooks, sparkly objects, and stabbing things.

“Kyra! Let go of Dog’s tail!” Loki called, hurrying over to her.

“Dog!” Kyra shouted again. Dog wagged his tail, barked, and dropped the ball, which rolled into a tidepool with a splash. A small crab scuttled into a crack between two rocks. 

“Aw, you scared it away!” Elias complained. Elias was the second oldest of the Baudelaire boys, though only by five hours. He was twelve years old, and loved to explore. A moment ago, he had been trying to capture the crab that Kyra had now scared away.

“Aw,” Kyra said, though she didn’t understand what she was ‘aw’ing for.

“I told you Elias, they’re very shy,” said Klaus. Klaus Baudelaire was the middle Baudelaire child and Elias’s younger triplet brother. He loved to read. The Baudelaires had a very large library in their home, and Klaus had read much of it. His favourite thing was to learn new information which Elias could then put into action, which he was doing right now by trying to find tiny, slimy animals at Briny Beach. 

Elias reached into the rockpool, attempting to fit his hand between the rocks.

“Elias, be careful! You’ll get your hand stuck!” scolded Sofia. Sofia was the last of the Baudelaire triplets, the only girl, and a little more level headed than her brothers. While Klaus liked to acquire new information that Elias then liked to try out, Sofia preferred to read, research, mediate her brothers’ craziness, and patch up any injuries they acquired from their adventures.

“I will not!”

“You will too!”

There was a shout of victory from the tideline, where Indigo had finally got Lavender and Finn’s device to work correctly and the three of them (plus Phoebe) were cheering.

In a turnabout of events, however, Violet and Damien’s device did not seem to be working.

“Could be a problem with the gears,” Damien said.

Violet huffed. “That would be disappointing; I made them myself.” 

“Look!” Lavender yelled, skimming another stone across the flat grey sea. “We made a machine that can bring back stones after you’ve skipped them! And Indigo made it work!”

Violet laughed. “Well, I’m glad someone’s invention works, even if it’s not mine. Sorry Damien, I guess you’re not flying today. I’ll have to open it back up and see what’s wrong.”

Damien patted her on the arm. “Never mind.”

“Kag!” shouted Noah, who was sat on one of the large, grey blankets the Baudelaires had brought with them to sit on on the sand. Indigo had put them a safe distance from the tidepools and given them many hard things they could bite, for they both liked to bite things.

“Gack!” agreed Sunny.

Sunny and Noah Baudelaire were the youngest members of the Baudelaire family. They were infants, and very small for their age, each scarcely larger than a boot. What they lacked in size, however, they made up for with the size and sharpness of their teeth. They were at the age where they mostly communicated using shrill shrieks that only their siblings could understand.

Currently, they were shouting ‘gack’ repeatedly, which could have meant many things. Violet thought they might be criticising her failed invention, but what they probably meant was “Look at that mysterious figure emerging from the fog!” 

Far along the misty shore of Briny Beach was a tall figure moving towards the Baudelaire children. Sunny and Noah had been watching and shrieking at this person for a few minutes before Kyra looked up from the spiny crab Elias had managed to capture and noticed it.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Mysterious!”

“Huh?”

Klaus looked up from his book ‘Crawly Things from The Deep,’ Elias dropped the crab he was holding, and Sofia stopped worrying about Elias being pinched by the crab. Klaus looked over at where Phoebe was now shouting ‘ack!’ at the figure while Indigo, Lavender, and Finn played with their new invention and Violet helped Damien out of the leather and wire harness she’d dressed him in.

“Guys! Look at that!” he called, and pointed at the figure. They stared at it for a moment, and then Indigo stood and squinted at the figure through the mist. Lavender and Finn withdrew the long arm of their machine and then Lavender picked up Phoebe and Finn picked up his violin and the picnic basket and they followed Indigo back over to their siblings. 

“Who do you think it is?” Lavender asked.

“I don’t know,” Klaus said.

Sofia squinted at it. “It seems to be moving right toward us.” 

Damien rolled his eyes. “We’re alone on the beach. There’s nobody else it could be moving toward.”

Lavender felt the two smooth, cold stones Sunny and Noah had bitten for her earlier in her pocket and thought about whether she should throw them at the stranger.

“It only looks scary because of the mist,” Klaus said.

“Besides,” added Elias, “there’s more of us than there is of them.”

It was true. There were a great many children in the Baudelaire family. There were so many of them that they could rarely go to restaurants and their parents had many times been told by complete strangers how kind they must be to adopt or foster so many children.

“And we have Dog!” Loki added.

Dog growled.

As the figure came into view, however, the children saw with relief that they recognised him.

“It’s Mr. Poe,” said Klaus.

“From the bank?” asked Sofia doubtfully.

“Why is he down here on the beach in the middle of the day?” asked Elias, who was annoyed at being interrupted from his exploring and examining, even if Mr. Poe was a friend of their parents’ and they shouldn’t be rude. “Shouldn’t he be at work?”

“Maybe he has the day off,” Finn said.

Mr. Poe coughed a little as he approached – he coughed a lot, he always seemed to have a cold. 

Loki laid a hand on Dog’s head to make him stop growling and Violet and Damien moved forwards to shake his hand and say how do you do. 

“How do you do?” said Damien

“How do you do?” said Violet, looking at her younger siblings in a way that said ‘don’t be rude and embarrassing.’

“How do you do?” said Lavender, feeling a little guilty for wanting to throw stones at him.

“How do you do?” said Finn.

“Odo yow!” said Sunny and Noah.

Elias huffed. “You guys sound ridiculous.”

“Hello Mr. Poe,” said Indigo.

“Yes, yes, hello children,” said Mr. Poe absently.

“It’s a nice day,” said Indigo, trying to fill in the awkward silence and make conversation. Sunny made a very angry chirping sound, and Noah made a noise that sounded like a growl, and Klaus and Sofia picked them up and held them. 

“Yes, it is a nice day,” Mr. Poe said, but he looked very sad and was staring down the beach. Elias shuffled his feet, impatient, and Lavender shifted Phoebe against her hip, uncomfortable.

“I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you children.”

The Baudelaires looked at him. Dog wagged his tail hopefully, hoping for a biscuit.

“I’m very, very sorry to have to tell you this my dears.”

Mr. Poe had never called the Baudelaire children ‘my dears’ before. No one had ever called the Baudelaire children ‘my dears’ before, normally because they were busy causing unintentional trouble. So they all knew the news must be very serious indeed.

“Your parents have perished in a terrible fire.” 

The children didn’t say anything.

Not one of them had a single word to say, which was unusual for a group of children as large as the Baudelaires.

“They perished in a fire that destroyed the entire house.”

They remained silent.

“Perished,” Mr. Poe said, “means killed.”

“We know what the word ‘perished’ means,” said Klaus.

Violet thought Mr. Poe must be playing a terrible joke on them.

Elias thought so too.

“This is an incredibly sick and unfunny joke,” he said.

“The fire department arrived, of course,” Mr. Poe continued, as though Elias hadn’t spoken, “but they were too late. The entire house was engulfed in fire. It burned to the ground.”

“Our-” Indigo said, unable to form the words.

“The entire house-?” whispered Lavender.

“Are you sure?” Violet asked at last, as if they might have been mistaken for another family with as many children as theirs had.

“Yes Lilac, of course I am sure.”

Not even Violet told him her name was not Lilac.

“I am the executor of your parents’ estate. That means I will be handling their enormous fortune and figuring out where you children will go.”

“We know what an executor is,” Sofia said crossly.

“When Violet comes of age, the fortune will be yours, but the bank will take charge of it until you are old enough.” 

“But-” whispered Klaus.

“What happens to us until then?” Elias demanded.

“I was sent to retrieve you here, and to take you to my home, where you’ll stay for some time while we figure things out and find a suitable guardian for you children.”

“A suitable guardian?” Lavender asked.

“Yes Iris. Your parents’ will said you were to be raised as conveniently as possible by your closest living relative.”

Violet realised with a sinking feeling that they didn’t know who that was, and neither, clearly, did Mr. Poe.

“Come with me,” Mr. Poe said.

Damien took Violet’s hand in one hand and Loki’s hand in the other, and Indigo bent down to pick up Kyra even though she was really too big now to be carried, and Lavender took Finn’s hand with the hand she was not using to hold Phoebe, and the triplets held hands with Elias in the centre because Klaus and Sofia were still holding Sunny and Noah respectively, and the Baudelaire children were led away from the beach and their previous lives.


	2. A Sun Long Set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note  
> I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any material you recognise.

To say it was a squeeze to get them all into Mr Poe’s car would be an understatement. Violet and Damien squeezed together on the passenger seat with their baby twin siblings on their lap and Dog at their feet, and the rest of their younger siblings crowded together on the back seat, with Loki sat in Lavender’s lap, Phoebe sat in Klaus’s, Kyra sat in Elias’s, and Finn, even though he was far too big, sat in Indigo’s.

“I’m sorry if I’m squishing you,” he whispered, but Indigo was thinking about so many other things.

Violet leant into Damien’s side. “How could a thing like this happen?”

“It is a terrible thing,” Mr. Poe said, and then coughed a little. Damien feared they would all be sick by the time they left this car.

“But I want to assure you children that despite this terrible, terrible accident, everything is going to be just fine. You children have nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Poe was an obnoxiously loud woman with a large volume of hair who seemed more interested in using their story in her next newspaper article than she was in their welfare and would not allow Dog in the house. She led them upstairs to a small, square bedroom with two beds stood head to head in the corner. “Now, you’ll be sharing this bedroom here with Edger and Albert until everything is all sorted out. The girls can sleep here on this mattress, and the boys here on this one, and we have some cushions here for the little ones.”

“What about this bedroom?” Finn asked, looking into what seemed to be a guest bedroom made up with pale pink and blue sheets.

Mrs. Poe laughed. “Oh, no dear! That’s Helga’s bedroom, in case she comes to visit!”

“But she’s not visiting now,” Lavender said.

“But she might. No, you sleep right here with Edgar and Albert.”

Elias opened his mouth. Indigo kicked him. “Thank you Mrs. Poe. That’s very kind of you.”

The Baudelaires gathered in the bedroom, huddling close together.

“You’re welcome, you’re quite welcome! I can’t imagine how you children are feeling. After all, your home was destroyed and you’re orphans now.”

Once she had finally left them alone, the Baudelaires huddled together on the thin mattresses. Damien put his arm around Violet, and Indigo put her arm around Elias, and Lavender and Finn pressed themselves close together.

“Is- Is this really real?” Sofia asked. She was shivering, and Klaus wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I- I guess so,” Violet said. It didn’t feel real, but they were here in the Poe household instead of down at Briny Beach or safe in their own home.

“Our parents…” Finn said miserably.

“How could something like this happen?” Lavender asked.

“Everything was fine when we left the house,” Klaus said.

“Abutat!” said Sunny.

“I don’t know,” Violet said. They had piled out the house in rather a rush this morning, she and Damien eager to test her invention, the triplets itching to be out the house, the rest of their siblings needing fresh air and the freedom to do whatever it was they had been doing. If they had known it was the last time they’d ever go through the door, maybe they would have done something differently.

Maybe, she thought.

“It could have been faulty wiring, or- or a gas explosion, or m-maybe it could have been arson.”

Lavender frowned. “Arson?”

“It means deliberately set on fire,” Klaus said.

“I know what arson is!”

“Why would someone arson our house?” Loki asked.

“You don’t ‘arson’ a house-” Sofia started.

“Listen to you all!” Elias shouted. His siblings fell silent in surprise, even Phoebe, who had been sniffling since they left the beach.

“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how the fire started! Our parents are dead! Our home is gone! We’re orphans now and we have absolutely nothing!”

“Elias-” Violet tried, but he kept shouting.

“We don’t even have any more clothes! You and Damien look like you’re about to blow up a laboratory, Indigo’s just walked out a steampunk novel, Lav looks like she’s been shopping for toddlers, Loki’s filthy, and Phoebe’s still dressed as a cowboy!”

Loki was always filthy, but that was beyond the point.

“Elias!” Damien snapped.

Elias stopped and stared at the mattress.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Not really, no.”

“We don’t have nothing,” Lavender said, finally managing to react. “We have each other.”

“Oh, that makes everything better then,” Elias muttered.

“Elias,” Indigo hissed.

“We should get a night’s sleep. We can’t do anything while we’re all tired. Here, they gave us some pyjamas. In the morning I- I’ll see what can be done.”

Klaus looked about the room. “Where are we even going to sleep? We won’t all fit.”

Violet licked her lips. “Well, the babies can sleep here on these cushions, like Mrs. Poe said.”

She leant over and patted one of the cushions.

“And- Kyra, I think you’ll have to sleep here too.”

Kyra pouted, but she was too miserable and tired to try and argue.

“Indigo, Lavender, Sofia, you can share this mattress, and boys, you can share that one.”

“What about you?” Lavender asked.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Me too,” Damien said.

Elias rolled his eyes. “It’s not a competition to be a martyr.”

“We’re the oldest,” Damien said.

“And the biggest,” Violet added.

This was true. Violet and Damien shared many physical attributes, with one of them being their height, and both of them stood taller than their siblings.

“You guys will be more comfortable like this.”

“Besides, Damien makes a great pillow.”

“Hey!” Damien gave her a hard shove. Violet shoved him back. The two of them mock glared at each other.

“We should all get some sleep,” Indigo said, gathering up her nightgown. “C’mon Kyra. I’ll help get you changed.” She took Kyra’s hand and led her out of the room. Sofia wrapped her arms around her knees.

“What- What do you think is going to happen to us now?”

“Mr. Poe will find us a guardian until Vi and I come of age,” Damien said.

Violet scowled. “Don’t call me Vi.”

“Then we can adopt-”

“Take guardianship of,” Klaus muttered.

“The rest of you.”

“Who do you think our new guardian will be?” Lavender asked.

“I don’t know. Mum and dad never said.” Violet wished now that she’d asked, but why would it have ever occurred to her? They had a happy life, and a happy home, and two loving parents.

And now they had nothing.

“Mr. Poe?” Violet asked in the morning as a few of her siblings half-heartedly nibbled at bowls of porridge and Elias glared at the latest edition of the Daily Punctillio – which bore the title ‘Baudelaire Mansion Destroyed!’ – as though he was trying to incinerate it like the fire had incinerated their house.

“Yes Viola?”

“Her name is Violet,” Damien muttered.

“May we see the house?”

Mr. Poe coughed slightly, and then gave then a nod. “Of course, of course! I can take you now, before banking hours begin.”

“Thank you Mr. Poe.”

After another cramped, uncomfortable car ride in Mr. Poe’s small car, they arrived at the remains of the Baudelaire mansion, and it was terrible.

A few of the outer walls still stood, but everything was blackened with soot and ash, the windows had shattered in the heat of the fire, and all the interior furnishings had turned to black ash. Violet and Damien’s blowtorch had exploded, Indigo’s microscope had fused together in the heat of the fire, all Lavender’s pretty dancing shoes that she never wore had been turned to ash, all the books in the library the triplets had wanted to read had been burned up, and the grand piano Finn had played on Sunday afternoons had been reduced to fragments. Even Sunny and Noah’s teething rings had melted in the heat of the flames. In some places the children could see parts of the massive home they had loved: an elegant bottle in which brandy had been kept, a burnt cushion that had sat on the windowseat, and the burnt skeleton of their father’s desk, which must have fallen from his office through the now burnt ceiling to the ground below.

The children moved throughout the ruins, drinking it all in with dismay and horror.

Mr. Poe stood in what had once been the doorway. “I’ve never been through anything like this myself, but I can imagine just how you feel.”

Indigo thought rather selfishly that he could not.

“It’s all gone,” Sofia whispered, stepping through the ash.

Violet looked about herself, trying to work out whether there was anything that had been unharmed and could be saved.

She found nothing.

Indigo carried Kyra through the rubble, even though she was really big enough not be carried now. She found a few of her screwdrivers, now blackened and burnt, and the melted remains of some of Kyra’s audiobooks. The insides had all turned to a goey mess.

“Melty,” Kyra said unhappily.

Loki made his way through to where the back garden had once been, where he found Dog’s outside kennel had been all burnt to ash and his favourite rope toy had been blackened by the flames. But he did find the heavy metal leash his father had bought for him that Loki never used because Dog hated it and knew to come back. Loki wrapped it around his arm and looked sadly at the destroyed garden.

Lavender picked her way through the ruins even though the debris – a word which here means small, sharp pieces of the ruins – cut into her feet. Phoebe wriggled in her arms and she shifted her against her hip.

“Sheen!” Phoebe shouted, waving one chubby arm, a shout which might have meant many things, but in this situation probably meant _‘_ _look, what’s that shiny thing in father’s desk_ _?’_

Finn and Lavender both moved to have a look. Their father’s office was the only place in the mansion they had never been allowed to enter, and their father’s desk was one of the few things they hadn’t been allowed to touch.

But their father wasn’t here now.

Finn reached in and pulled out a cylindrical object. As he did so, half of it exploded, coating his hand in ash.

“What is it?” Lavender asked.

Finn turned it over in his hand. “I don’t know.”

Mr. Poe stepped past the burnt and warped doorway and into the ashes of the home. “Now, I just want to assure you Baudelaires once again that you have absolutely nothing-”

“We have absolutely nothing,” Elias echoed, gazing up at the remains of their once great and beautiful home. He, Klaus, and Sofia were stood in what had once been the Baudelaire library, where there was now only the skeletons of bookshelves.

Mr. Poe sighed. “-to worry about. Everything is going to be just fine. Now, come along children. Banking hours begin shortly.”

Slowly, the Baudelaires began to filter from the burnt wreckage of their home. Damien gave Violet a nudge. “How do you think it started?”

Violet shook her head. “It’s impossible to tell.”

There was so little left of their home that she couldn’t work it out.

They piled into the car, climbing on top of each other, and got themselves organised.

“Oh, Lavender!” Indigo exclaimed in horror. “Your feet are bleeding.”

“Oh!” cried Sofia, who had an interest in medicine. “Here, let me have a look!” She jerked forwards over Klaus, only to bang her head on Mr. Poe’s seat. “Ow!”

“Sofia, be more careful!” Indigo scolded.

Sofia rubbed her head.

“Sorry Mr. Poe.”

“Yes, yes,” he said absently.

Lavender rubbed her feet together, smearing them both with blood. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does, you’re injured-” Indigo protested.

“Now, please don’t argue children. Say goodbye,” Mr. Poe said, far too brightly for the grim situation.

Indigo couldn’t bring herself to look, even as Finn wriggled to try and see over her through the back window and the triplets peered out at the remains of what had once been their home.

“Goodbye,” Lavender said sadly, and then the car drove away.


	3. A Place to Call Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note  
> I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events.  
> In which Count Olaf appears!

Their home destroyed, the Baudelaires were forced to stay with the Poes. 

“Even though he’s a banker, and really has no business caring for the orphaned children of his clients,” Elias said.

The situation was not at all agreeable. Mr. Poe was hardly ever home, because he was so busy dealing with the Baudelaires’ affairs, and when he was home he was usually coughing and one could not have a reasonable conversation.

Mrs. Poe was loud, definitely cared more about chronicling everything in the newspaper than their own welfare, and bought them clothing in terribly clashing colours that itched.

And the two sons, Edgar and Albert, were loud, argumentative, and boisterous. They resented sharing their tiny room, which was fair since it was their room and there were so many of the Baudelaires.

The only glimmer of brightness in their lives was that because there were so many of them Mrs. Poe soon decided she couldn’t be bothered to try buying them clothing and gave Violet and Damien a small allowance to buy some clothes (and shoes for Lavender) with.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Poe. I promise we’ll repay you when we turn eighteen,” Violet said.

Mrs. Poe made sure to make that the headline of her next newspaper article.

But even living in such circumstances, the siblings felt odd when Mr. Poe returned home with an announcement.

“Good news Baudelaires! You shall be leaving for your new home tomorrow morning!”

“Where will we go?” Lavender asked anxiously. Mr. Poe coughed a little before continuing.

“I have made arrangements for you to be raised by a distant relative of yours who lives on the other side of town. His name is Count Olaf.” 

The siblings looked around at each other.

“Never heard of him,” said Elias finally.

“Who is he?” Indigo asked.

“He is either a third cousin four times removed, or a fourth cousin three times removed.”

“Oh, that explains everything,” Elias muttered.

“Your parents’ will instructs that you be raised by your closest living relative, and Count Olaf is the only relative who lives within the urban limits.” 

“Does he really think that that’s what closest living relative means?” Elias muttered to Klaus, who shrugged.

“If he lives in the city, why didn’t our parents ever invite him over?” Lavender asked. 

“Probably because he’s a very busy man. He’s an actor, and often travels around the world.”

“Bango,” said Phoebe, which could have meant many things, but in this situation probably meant ‘that does sound exciting.’

“I thought he was a Count,” Sofia said.

Elias rolled his eyes. “He can be both you ninny.”

“Elias, don’t insult your sister,” Indigo scolded.

“Yes Elliot, please don’t cause a fuss. Now, you children need to pack up your things, and I have to return to the bank. I am a very busy man.”

The Baudelaires had so many more questions they wanted to ask, but Mr. Poe was already putting on his bowler had and picking up his briefcase.

“You had better start packing,” said Mrs. Poe, who was cooking another meal of boiled vegetables.

Elias thought that if they got to eat something that wasn’t boiled, blanched, or steamed, he would move out with the next stranger that offered him candy.

“Come on,” Indigo said.

The Baudelaires trudged up to the bedroom and packed up their scarce few belongings. 

“What do you think this Count Olaf will be like?” Klaus asked.

“I hope he’s nice,” Lavender replied.

“I hope he has a bigger house than the Poes,” Elias said.

“I hope he has a piano,” Finn said.

“Burn!” Kyra cried.

“Kaggle!” Noah shouted, a word which could have meant many things, but in this situation probably meant ‘I hope he has lots of hard things for Sunny and me to bite!’

“I hope we’ll all be comfortable there,” Damien said. He didn’t say ‘happy,’ because he wasn’t sure they could ever be happy again.

Many hands made little work, and they had soon packed up the few things that they owned. At dinner time, they barely felt like eating the bland, boiled food, and excused themselves early to bed. Violet and Damien got their younger siblings settled in bed and lay there on the floor all night, tossing and turning, scarcely getting any sleep between Edgar and Albert’s loud snoring and their own worried thoughts.

In the morning, they gathered up their belongings and their younger siblings and herded them all downstairs.

“Come along then Baudelaires. It’s time for you to go to Count Olaf’s,” said Mr. Poe.

Violet and Damien looked around the crowded house, and although they didn’t like it, they were both nervous about leaving it for a place they didn’t know and a person they’d never met before.

“Do we have to go right this minute?” Violet asked.

Mr. Poe coughed a little. “I’m afraid you do. We need to leave as soon as possible; I’m dropping you off on my way to the bank.”

“Good to know you care about us Mr. Poe,” Elias said, resentful at being shunted off to some stranger without so much as a ‘how do you do this fine morning?’

The Baudelaires all left the house and loaded their two suitcases into the car before piling inside.

Car rides in Mr. Poe’s car were never much fun for the Baudelaires. Dog sat on Violet and Damien’s feet, and Indigo wrapped her arms around Finn, and all of them wondered very much about where they were going as they passed horse-drawn carriages and motorcycles, the Fickle Fountain, and an enormous pile of dirt. Soon enough, Mr. Poe was driving down a long street with houses of pale brick. He stopped halfway down the block.

“Here we are. Your new home.”

The Baudelaires looked out and saw what they thought had to be the prettiest house on the block. The bricks were clean and white, and plants decorated the windowsills. Through the large, clean windows they could see more plants, and standing in the doorway was an older woman, who was smiling at the children and carrying a flowerpot.  
The children tumbled from the car.

“Hello there! You must be the children Count Olaf is adopting.”

“No,” Elias muttered, “we’re just random stray children who happen to have wandered onto this street.”

Indigo kicked him. “Elias!”

“Yes,” Violet said. “We are.”

Damien stepped up and shook the woman’s hand with the hand he was not using to carry Noah. Violet did the same. The woman looked at the assorted children standing on the side of the street. “Oh my. I had no idea there were so very many of you.”

“No one ever does,” Elias grumbled.

“Are you really all one family?”

Damien managed to smile as if they weren’t asked that question monthly, if not weekly or even daily. “We are. I’m Damien Baudelaire, and these are my siblings. And this is Mr. Poe.”

“Mulctuary Money Management,” Mr. Poe said proudly, shoving a business card towards her. “My name and title are on the card. Although I may be in line for a promotion, so that might change.”

“Mr. Poe has been arranging things for us since the death of our parents,” Violet explained.

“Yes, I heard about the accident.”

Indigo thought that was a very careless way to talk about one’s entire house burning down and their parents being killed.

“I am Justice Strauss.” 

“That’s an unusual first name,” Klaus said.

Elias rolled his eyes. “It’s her title moron.”

“Oh,” Klaus said, a little embarrassed at such a silly mistake. He was, after all, an intelligent boy, and rarely made such mistakes.

“An easy mistake for children such as yourselves,” Justice Strauss said. “I serve as a judge on the High Court.” 

“How fascinating,” said Indigo, who did not actually find such things fascinating.

Lavender said, “Are you married to Count Olaf then?” She thought it would be very nice ineed to be living with Justice Strauss and to dance in her garden surrounded by all the flowers.

“Goodness me, no! I don’t even know him that well. He lives over there.”

She pointed behind them.

“Oh dear, I must have got the wrong house,” Mr. Poe said, flustered.

Slowly, the children turned from Justice Strauss’s pretty and well scrubbed house to the dilapidated one across the street. It was filthy with grime, and there were only two small windows, which had the shades drawn. Rising above the entire house was a tall, filthy tower that tilted slightly to the left. The paint was peeling from the front door, and in the middle of it was a carved image of an eye.

“Bah!” shrieked Phoebe, which probably meant ‘let’s sleep outside.’

“No!” shouted Noah, which could have been a denial to many things, but the children knew meant ‘let’s leave immediately.’

“Oh!” said Sunny, and her siblings all knew she meant, ‘What a terrible place! I don’t want to live there at all!” 

“It was very nice to meet you,” Violet said.

“Yes, it was lovely to meet you all. Perhaps one day you could come over and help me with my gardening.” Justice Strass gestured at her flowerpot.

“That would be very pleasant,” said Lavender, sadly. 

It would be very pleasant to help Justice Strauss in her clearly extensive garden, but she couldn’t help thinking it would be much nicer to live in her house instead of Count Olaf’s.

“I don’t want to live there,” said Loki. Dog gave a soft ‘wuff!’ of agreement.

“Now children,” said Mr. Poe, “Count Olaf is your closest living relative. Come along now, we’ve wasted enough time and must get you dropped off.” He tipped his hat to Justice Strauss, who smiled kindly at the children and vanished into her clean, beautiful house. Violet and Damien looked both ways up and down the road and then slowly herded their siblings across, like reluctant sheepdogs.

Count Olaf’s front garden was very overgrown, and everything looked very dirty.

“Lavender, mind your feet,” Indigo said. “And Loki, put Dog on that lead.”

“But he doesn’t like it!”

“If he goes off in this garden, he might cut himself on something.”

“Or never come back out,” Elias said.

Loki unwound the heavy metal lead from around his neck and clipped the collar around Dog’s neck. Dog gave a much sadder ‘wuff.’

“Maybe because there are so many of us Count Olaf will need some of us to live with Justice Strauss. That would be much nicer,” said Elias.

In the centre of the door was the carved image of an eye. Lavender wondered who would carve such an ugly thing on their door as Klaus stepped forwards and knocked, right in the centre of the eye.

No one came.

Mr. Poe frowned at the door. “Strange. He said specifically he was waiting eagerly to get his hands on you.”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” said Lavender.

Klaus knocked again.

There was a long, tense silence, and then the door creaked open.

Count Olaf was a tall, thin, and unshaven man, wearing a stained grey suit. He had only one eyebrow, rather than two, and beneath it were two very, very shiny eyes. “Hello hello hello.”

All the children felt a little afraid, but they were comforted by the presence of their many siblings.

“Hello, my children. I am Count Olaf, the renowned actor and your new guardian.”

The children stared at him for a moment. Indigo told herself that he only looked scary because they were nervous, just like Mr. Poe had only looked scary because of the mist.

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you?” Violet offered uncertainly.

“You’re welcome,” Count Olaf said again, which seemed like an odd thing to do. Dog growled slightly, and Loki petted him on the head.

“Please, come in!”

The children could think of many things they would rather do. 

Damien would rather try to cook, Indigo would rather dress as a princess in pink, Klaus would rather research a great many dull and tedious topics, Loki would rather wrestle a tiger, and Kyra would rather go back to Mr. Poe’s tiny house and the tiny, cramped bedroom they had shared with the Poe brothers.

“Mind you wipe your feet on the mat so you don’t trek in any mud. And don’t forget your enormous fortune!”

Violet and Damien stepped aside to reluctantly usher their siblings inside, like uncertain doormen.

This, they soon found, was a silly thing to say. The entrance hall in which they were standing was the dirtiest place they had ever seen.

“This place is filthier than Loki,” Elias whispered to Klaus.

Loki, who was actually clean for once, scowled. “I heard that! Indigo, Elias is being mean!”

“Elias, don’t be mean to Loki.”

“Welcome, welcome, to my humble home orphans.”

Indigo frowned at the term and shifted Kyra, who was really far too big by now to be carried, against her. Mr. Poe followed Violet and Damien inside.

“And... a man with a hat on,” ended Count Olaf, frowning at Mr. Poe.

“Poe,” said Mr. Poe. “

“Actually I’m about to be rather wealthy. So if you’ll excuse me-”

“No, we spoke on the phone, I’m from Mulctuary Money Management.” He held out a business card. Count Olaf frowned. 

“Money sounds familiar.”

“Does he not know what a bank is?” Lavender whispered.

“The bank. I’m from the bank,” Mr. Poe clarified.

“Ah, yes, the bank. Welcome to my humble home.”

Mr. Poe coughed.

Sofia was willing herself not to cry as she looked around. This was a terrible place to live she thought!

Kyra did not will herself not to cry, and burst into loud howling wails.

“What,” demanded Count Olaf, glaring at the bawling toddler, “is that?”

“This is Kyra,” Indigo said, fighting to hold onto the wriggling and kicking toddler so as not to drop her on the filthy floor.

“Na-na-na-na-na-na!” screamed Kyra.

“Well I don’t speak monkey,” Count Olaf proclaimed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Our sister is just a little upset right now,” said Violet.

“Na-na-na-na-na-na!” screamed Kyra.

“Orphans should be not seen and not heard. Can’t you shut her up?”

“I- I’m sorry if she’s upsetting you, Kyra’s just a baby.”

Mr. Poe squinted around the gloomy looking room. “This hall does seem to need a little work.”

“A little work?” Elias muttered to Sofia.

Count Olaf lounged against the staircase bannister, eyeing the group of children “I realize that it’s not as fancy as the Baudelaire mansion, but perhaps with a bit of your money we could fix it up a little nicer.”

Mr. Poe gave Count Olaf a very stern look. “The Baudelaire fortune will not be used for such matters. The Baudelaire will is very specific in how the children are to be raised in case of an unfortunate event.”

Damien frowned. Their parents had never mentioned such a thing to them.

“Ah, yes, the fire,” said Count Olaf, as if he had forgotten about the fire that destroyed their home and left them orphans.

“They’re to be raised by their closest relative.”

“That is I, Count Olaf!”

Violet was beginning to have a suspicion it was not, but it was very hard to think over Kyra’s despondent wailing.

“And every cent of the Baudelaire fortune is locked up until the eldest comes of age.”

Count Olaf turned to Mr. Poe, and for a moment Finn thought he was going to strike the banker, but then he shrugged his thin, thin shoulders. “Which one is the eldest?”

Mr. Poe hesitated, looking at the children. “Well, the twins are,” he said, looking at Indigo and Elias. “And they’re twins, so I don’t suppose it matters.”

“Do you think we should tell him?” Violet asked Damien, a little concerned that Mr. Poe was unable to remember that she and Damien were the two that stood much taller than their younger siblings.

Damien shrugged. “Nah. They’ll work it out eventually.”

Count Olaf shrugged. “All right then. Well, I hope I can prove myself to be the father you never had.”

“We had a father!” Elias shouted.

Dog barked.

“Yes. I know. And a mother. Remarkable woman. Flammable.”

“What?” shrieked Indigo over the sound of Kyra’s screeches.

“So, Poe. Do I need to sign for them or something?”

“What? No.”

“Then, as we say in the theatre, exit stage right.” He began to push Mr. Poe towards the door. Even though he was busy, and always coughing, the Baudelaires wished he would not go. 

“Thank you very much for bringing them here. Children, I will now show you to your room.” 

“Room?” Loki asked as Count Olaf pushed Mr. Poe out the door.

“Good-bye children. I hope you will be very happy here. I will continue to see you occasionally, and you can always contact me at the bank if you have any questions.” 

“But we don’t know where the bank is,” Klaus said. 

“I have a map of the city,” Count Olaf said. “Good-bye, Mr. Poe.” 

Finn tugged at Violet’s sleeve. “I don’t want to stay here.”

She wrapped the arm she was not holding Sunny with around him. “First impressions can often be wrong.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Count Olaf locked the door and turned to face the siblings, who huddled close together. 

“Well children. Before I give you a tour of your new home, aren’t you going to say how do you do to your new guardian?”

The children exchanged looks. Kyra was still wailing, and now Sunny and Noah were crying too, which left only Phoebe, who was a little less prone to tears and tantrums, as a quiet baby.

“How do you do?” asked Violet.

Count Olaf leant over Violet and squinting down at Sunny. “Better and better, Baudelaires. Better and better. Now, come with me and I will show you the features of your new home."

The rest of Count Olaf’s home was just as filthy as the entrance hall. Every surface in the kitchen was piled high with old, rusted, and dirty dishes. Indigo could see rotten food in some of them and Klaus could have sworn he saw insects crawling in others.

“I expect you to keep everything gleamingly clean,” Count Olaf said, and Lavender thought that even with all of them it was going to take days to clear all of this! How could one person create so much filth?

The library contained a broken armchair, a sofa with a hole in it, cobwebs, a grammaphone, and a collection of empty whisky bottles.

“This is where I do all my reading. You will keep it well dusted.”

Loki thought that was a stupid thing to say, because there was dust everywhere, and Elias wondered whether Count Olaf was literate, because there were no books at all in the library.

The ballroom was piled high with old, broken furniture, torn paintings, draperies, costumes, and whiskey bottles. 

“You’ll have to redo the floors,” said Count Olaf.

Indigo thought that would actually sound like a constructive project – if not for all the accumulated stuff hoarded in the room.

The laundry room was a tiny cupboard with no windows and mouse poo on the floor.

“You can hang my underwear on that rack when you’re done washing it.”

Sofia shuddered at the thought of handling Count Olaf’s underwear.

The backyard was a small, enclosed space where nothing appeared to be living. There were metal spiked on top of the crumbling wall, and an old, dead tree looming in one corner.

“It needs weeding, mowing, and pruning. You will also need to chop wood.”

Loki thought that he would never be able to let Dog out here. He’d be far too afraid of him hurting himself!

There were an inordinate amount of bathrooms, most of which seemed to be out of order due to clogged toilets or broken bathtubs.

“This is the only bathroom you may use. It has all the usual amenities, and you can find some complementary tear encouraging shampoo here.”

Violet peered into the bathroom in dismay. It was missing floorboards, the sink was leaking, and the bottom of the bath was filled with a filthy brown water.  


At last Count Olaf led them to a small room on the top floor of the large house. “And this is where you will sleep orphans. Out of all the numerous bedrooms in this enormous mansion, I have chosen this one for your safety and comfort.”

“There’s only one bed,” Klaus said.

“As you can see, I have provided at no cost to you this complementary pile of rocks.”

At least Sunny and Noah might have something to bite on, Damien thought.

“Thoughts?”

“Thoughts?” Elias exploded. “I’ll give you some thoughts! First of all-”

Indigo nudged him with her shoulder. “First of all, first impressions are often wrong.”

“Quite right. For example, your first impression of me might be that I am a terrible man. But in time, orphans, I hope you’ll come to realise.” He loomed over Violet, breathing a foul stench in her face. “You haven’t the faintest idea.” He stepped around the large group of children. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

The door closed behind him.

The Baudelaires stood in silence and looked at the room.

“Vi,” Damien said. “I think you’d better tie your hair up.”

Phoebe began to cry.


	4. Apprehension Of The Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Violet, Damien, and Lavender take the littlies on a family trip.

The children stood in the bedroom, numb and dumbstruck.

Lavender lulled the sobbing Phoebe against her. “It’s alright Phoebe. He’s gone now.”

Finn’s shoulders shook and his voice cracked. “He’s horrible.”

Lavender wrapped the arm she was not holding Phoebe with around him.

“Did you see the tattoo on his ankle?” Klaus asked.

“A tattoo is just a decorative pigment on skin, it’s not a sign of a wicked person,” Violet said.

“Unless it’s on a wicked person,” Sofia whispered.

“How could our parents put us here?” Elias demanded, kicking at the complementary pile of rocks.

“It has to be a mistake,” Lavender said, trying to comfort the sobbing Phoebe and a now crying Finn at the same time. “It has to be.”

Indigo nodded. “It’ll get sorted out. Until then- we’ll make this our home.”

Elias scowled and laughed bitterly. “You’re kidding, right? Look at this place! It’s a dump! I bet the roof leaks when it rains.”

All the children looked warily at the ceiling.

Indigo looked at the triplets. “Klaus, Sofa, Elias, have you ever read any books on people who make their homes in difficult places.”

“There’s a village in the Pacific Islands suspended on ropes above an active volcano,” Sofia replied.

“How do they manage?”

“They own very little in case it erupts.”

“Then we’re already one step ahead,” said Finn bitterly.

“Yeah, we own nothing,” sneered Elias.

Lavender sighed as she looked over the room. “What are we going to do? We can’t possibly stay here.”

“Damien and I will go and see Mr. Poe this afternoon,” said Violet after some consideration. “We’ll get this sorted out, I promise.”

Count Olaf returned with a bucket, a mop, and a long piece of paper. “Do you know what this is, orphans?”

“It looks like a list,” Finn mumbled.

“Wrong! It is a list!” He fully unrolled the paper, which was filled with scratchy handwriting. “A list of chores. Rich brats like you are probably spoilt rotten.” He thrust it at Violet, who fumbled to take it. It was as long as her arm.

“Actually, we often helped mother and father around the house,” said Lavender, who neglected to mention that they were usually keeping the house running while their parents were away or at work, which they were an awful lot.

Violet scanned down the first few items on the list. “Clean bathrooms six and seven. Wash the laundry. Scrub the floors-”

“I expect you to carry out all of these chores impeccably every day.”

“But-” Sofia tried.

“ _Impeccably_.” He thrust the bucket and mop at Indigo. “Showtime.”

With that, he swept out, leaving the siblings looking about at each other and at the list in Violet’s hands. Damien took the other end of it, holding it out and scanning the chores at the bottom. “Oil all hinge- that is not how you spell hinges – in the house. Repair – that is not the right pair – kitchen shutters. Did he seriously expect- No, never mind. Vi and I will go to the bank to find Mr. Poe and get this straightened out. We’ll take the littlies with us; I don’t think this house is safe for toddlers.”

“You can’t juggle them all by yourself,” Indigo pointed out.

Violet glanced at her siblings. “We’ll take Lavender too. This house probably isn’t safe not to wear shoes in either.”

“And I guess we’ll… stay here then,” Indigo said with a sigh, looking about the room. It felt dusty and filthy, and the floorboards creaked and groaned beneath them.

“Maybe we can do something with this room. You know, in case…”

Violet gave a vague nod. “Good idea.”

Leaving their siblings under the dubious care of Count Olaf, Violet, Damien, Lavender and Kyra slipped out the house, the three infants bundled up in the elder siblings’ arms. If Count Olaf saw them go he didn’t come chasing after them, which dissuaded some of the fears Lavender had had about the tattoo of an eye meaning he could watch them all over the house. Violet held onto Kyra’s hand as they hurried up the street and around the corner in search of a trolley stop.

“I know there’s one here somewhere. I saw it on the way,” Damien said.

“Go home?” Kyra asked hopefully.

“No Kyra; go to the bank,” Violet said sadly.

“Oh,” said an unhappy Kyra. She was too young still, to truly understand what had happened.

“We’re going to see Mr. Poe.”

“Stinky house,” Kyra muttered, referring to the fact that Edgar and Albert’s room had always smelled like some terribly sickly flower.

“It was better than Count Olaf’s.”

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the other half of the Baudelaire siblings stood in the tiny, grimy room that Count Olaf had pushed them into and looked around.

“What do we do now?” Sofia asked.

“We wait,” Indigo replied, stepping a little further into the room. The floorboards groaned under her, and she wondered if they really did have to stay here whether they would hold them all.

“Ugh, I don’t even want to try touching anything.”

Violet and Damien would be back soon, she told herself, and they would take all of them away from this filthy hellhole.

In the meantime though…

Indigo looked up and down the room. The bed was hard and lumpy, and looked hardly any better than the floor. No, she decided, their parents could not possibly have wanted them to come here to Count Olaf.

Soon enough they found the trolley stop, and an old rickety trolley rolling its way up to it. Damien shifted Noah against him and fumbled in his pocket. Their parents had given them a little money that day they left for the beach, enough for them to all ride the trolley and buy ice creams, but because they bought so much ice cream the lady at the stall gave them a discount, so they had a little left. Damien paid for himself, Violet, and Lavender. The littlies rode free, since they were so young. They boarded the trolley and stood at the back as it rattled into town.

“Mulctuary Money Management,” Lavender read from the back of the business card Count Olaf had tossed carelessly to the floor after Mr. Poe left.

“We’ll get this all sorted out,” Violet said for maybe the fifth time. She refused to believe their parents would have left them with a man like Count Olaf. And that meant there must have been some sort of mistake. As the oldest child (even if it was only by an hour and a half), it was her job to look after her numerous younger siblings, which meant she had to sort this.

Damien pushed the button for the next stop and the little bell rang. Kyra leant eagerly against the bars of the railing, peering out at the city around them. The trolley pulled to a halt and the siblings disembarked, hurrying across the station.

“Keep hold of my hand Kyra,” Violet said. Kyra gripped her tightly, so as not to get lost or separated from her siblings on the busy street, and scurried along beside them.

Violet and Damien had to stop twice to ask for directions, and once they thought they had arrived only to discover they had the wrong bank, but at last they arrived at Mulctuary Money Management. By that time Kyra was grumbling that she was tired and Sunny and Noah were repeating ‘bite’ over and over, which could have meant a very limited amount of things, but most likely meant they were hungry.

Violet and Damien approached the receptionist at the desk. “Is Mr. Poe here?” asked Violet.

“I believe he just returned from his lunch break.”

“Lucky him,” muttered Damien.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No- No, we don’t.”

“You’ll need to make an appointment. We have one for next Tuesday. Would that be suitable for your parents?”

“I-”

“Excellent! Mr. Poe will see you then.”

“I’m-”

A door in the corridor behind her swung open and Mr. Poe appeared. “Sofia? Finn? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Violet said.

“We need to speak to you,” Damien growled.

Mr. Poe coughed. “Well, I think I have an opening if you’re quick. But I only dropped you off a few hours ago; what could possibly have happened?”

“Count Olaf’s a madman!” Lavender declared.

“We can’t possibly stay with him,” Violet clarified.

“Oh my, that doesn’t sound good. Come on, come in.”

As they entered Mr. Poe’s office, which was long, thin, and shiny, his receptionist passed them four apples. “Perhaps the younger ones would like them,” she said with a wink.

“That’s very kind of you,” Lavender said.

They set the infants down in one corner of Mr. Poe’s shiny office and handed them an apple each to munch on. Sunny and Noah bit theirs with great enthusiasm.

“Now, what is the problem here?”

“Mr. Poe, I’m sure there’s been some sort of mistake,” started Violet, glancing around the office. It was decorated with a great many things that suggested Mr. Poe would not make such a mistake.

“We’ve never met this Count Olaf, and he’s a terrible man. He gave us a list of a great many difficult chores to do,” said Lavender.

“His house is filthy, not suitable for children at all, let alone ones our siblings’ ages.” Damien waved a hand at the four infants.

“Bed!” shouted Kyra, which in context most likely meant ‘ _and he only gave us one bed!’_

“What our sister says is that he only provided us with one bed,” said Violet.

“Now Indigo.”

“Violet.”

“You must remember that not everyone is as wealthy as your family. Count Olaf may not have the means to provide so many children with the same luxuries that your parents did.”

“I understand that, but-”

“You’ve only been with this man a few hours. What you really need to do is give him a chance.”

“But it’s not safe!” Lavender protested, looking back at their infant siblings.

“I’m sure given some time Count Olaf will get the house secured. You have to remember he wasn’t expecting to have children living with him.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t,” muttered Damien.

“Now, I’ll drive you back round to his. I’m sure he must be worried sick by you all running off like this!”

While Violet, Damien, Lavender and the infants had been away tracking down Mr. Poe, their siblings had been passing the time by mocking Count Olaf’s list of chores and his many, many, many spelling mistakes, of which there were a great many.

After an undetermined period of time, the door swung open and the tall, tall figure of Count Olaf entered. “Why aren’t you orphans cleaning?”

“We’re not going to clean your filthy house for you,” snapped Elias.

“Orphans, as your new guardian and father, you will do what I tell you to! And I am telling you to clean!”

“You’re not our father. And you shouldn’t even be our guardian,” Indigo replied sharply.

“Of course I should; I am Count Olaf, your closest living relative.” He squinted around the room at the gathered children. “Shouldn’t there be more of you brats?”

The children exchanged looks and as one began to move positions and swap places to make it harder to count them, like they had so often done to confuse their parents when one or two of their siblings – usually Klaus or Lavender – were running late. Indigo glanced around her siblings and then leant down to peer under the bed. “Nope, this is all of us.”

“Hmmm.” He picked up the bucket and mop, which had been abandoned in a corner, and thrust them at Klaus. “Then get cleaning.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. All the children looked at each other and wondered what sort of person might want to visit a man as vile and wicked as Count Olaf. Indigo thought it might be Social Services, here to remove them from Count Olaf’s care. Klaus thought it might be Mr. Poe, here to tell them there had indeed been a mistake. Sofia thought it might be Justice Strauss, here to bring them a welcoming present. Elias thought it might be an actual relative, here to whisk them away to a new home. Loki thought it might be the police, here to arrest Count Olaf for crimes too foul to mention. Dog thought it might be the butcher, here to bring him a nice juicy steak.

Of all the children, Klaus was the nearest, as it was indeed Mr. Poe, but he was not there to tell them there had been a mistake with their guardianship but to bring their older siblings back. Count Olaf glared at the Baudelaires gathered in the dingy attic room. “Wait here.” He closed the door, only to return a moment later. “Not a sound.”

Down on the doorsteps, Mr. Poe and the other half of the Baudelaire siblings waited.

“Strange,” Mr. Poe muttered. “I thought he’d have noticed you were missing by now.”

“Mr. Poe,” Violet said urgently – a word meaning here that she really, really did not want her family remaining under the dubious care of Count Olaf – “You need to listen to us. Count Olaf is not a good guardian.”

“As your closest living relative-”

“That is not what that means; that is not what that means!” Damien protested.

The door swung open.

“Ah, Mr. Poe. Baudelaires.”

“Just returning these ones to you. You really ought to keep a better watch on them.”

Damien scowled at Mr. Poe.

“Ah, yes. They must have slipped out while I was… occupied.”

“You should be more careful. Children need watching.”

“Indeed they do, man in a hat, indeed they do. Come along children, come in.”

Violet looked hopelessly at her younger siblings. She felt like she was letting them down, betraying them, as she herded them back into the filthy hell of Count Olaf’s house.

The door swung closed behind them.

Count Olaf looked down at the Baudelaires assembled in front of him in the hall. Violet and Damien pulled their younger siblings behind them, keeping Sunny and Noah safe in their arms.

“I do hope your wanderlust has been sated now orphans,” Count Olaf said.

“We just went out to see the neighbourhood,” Damien explained before Violet could even open her mouth. She wondered bitterly why she hadn’t thought of that explanation.

“Yeah! And the little ones needed some fresh air!” agreed Lavender, shifting Phoebe against her and gesturing to Kyra.

“Mmm. Too much fresh air is bad for small children.”

“It is not!” Lavender protested.

“And these streets are dangerous for small children to be wandering alone.”

“Not small!” said Kyra.

“Nolone!” said Phobe, which probably meant something like _‘and we’re not alone, we have each other.’_

“Now, you children have chores that need doing.”


	5. We are Fine (lying to ourselves)

Living with Count Olaf, the Baudelaires found, was not a pleasant situation at all. Although Indigo tried to reassure her siblings that first impressions were often wrong while Violet and Damien tried to care for the littlies and keep them as safe as possible in Count Olaf’s incredibly unsafe house, they quickly came to the conclusion that Count Olaf was just as unpleasant as he first appeared, a description which here means Count Olaf was, indeed, a terrible person.

During the first week after their arrival at Count Olaf’s, the siblings tried to make themselves feel at home, but it was useless.

The tiny bedroom they had been placed in was nowhere big enough for all the siblings. The one lumpy, hard bed was just large enough that three of the siblings could bundle up on it together while the others slept on the hard wooden floor. To make a bed for the littlies, Violet and Indigo removed the old, motheaten curtains that hung over the bedroom’s one cracked window and bunched them together to form two large cushions, just big enough for two of the littlies to sleep on one each. Without curtains though, the sun poured through the ancient glass every morning, so the children woke early every day. Dog was made to stay out in the filthy, dead backyard all day and all night, where he whined and cried constantly for Loki. There was no closet or wardrobe, only a large cardboard box for a refrigerator that now contained all the children’s clothes.

The pile of rocks was the only thing offered to amuse the youngsters. Sunny and Noah sadly discovered they were too brittle to bite, as they simply exploded into a fine, grey dust that powdered everything around them, although Elias did have some fun throwing them at his siblings for an afternoon and then exploding them all over the house the following morning.

“We should just run away,” he became fond of saying, “and live in an alley as hobos. It would be better than this.”

“This is better than nothing,” Indigo told him, even though part of her agreed.

As the days continued to pass by, the children learnt Count Olaf was demanding, short-tempered, and bad-smelling. The only good thing to be said about him is that he was very rarely there. Most of the day he spent out of the house, or up in his secret tower room, where the children were forbidden to go.

Every morning they would find a list of instructions left for them in the kitchen, signed at the bottom with a picture of an eye. The chores were usually hard and difficult ones, like repairing the windows, sanding the floors, fixing the floorboards in the ballroom – they hadn’t managed that one yet and Count Olaf was becoming more and more impatient – and repainting the back porch, much to the delight of Dog.

One morning, after Damien had read out the list of chores for the day, Sofia pointed out there was writing on the back. Damien flipped it over and read the small note.

“My theater troupe will be coming for dinner before tonight’s performance. Have dinner ready for all six of us by seven o’clock. Buy the food, prepare it, set the table, serve dinner, clean up afterwards, and stay out of our way.” Below that there was the usual eye, and on the counter was a small sum of money for the groceries.

“None of us knows how to cook,” Klaus said glumly.

Violet sighed. “I knew how to repair those windows, and how to clean the chimney, because those sorts of things interest me. But I don’t know how to cook anything except toast.”

“And sometimes you burn the toast,” Damien said, and all the children smiled and some had a bit of a laugh.

“Do you remember,” Indigo said, “when we tried to make breakfast for our parents after Kyra was born?”

“And we burnt the toast to charcoal,” Violet said with a laugh.

“Mother and father were so worried at all the smoke!” Damien finished.

“We all just stood there looking at it like we’d never seen it before!”

The siblings fell about laughing at their past failure to cook.

“I remember mother and father made pancakes for us all,” Sofia said.

“I wish they were here,” said Lavender suddenly. She didn’t have to explain who she was talking about.

“They would never let us stay in this awful place,” said Indigo.

Elias scowled. “If they were here we would not be with Count Olaf in the first place!”

“Elias-” Indigo started.

“I hate it here! I hate this house! I hate our room! I hate having to do all these chores, and I hate Count Olaf!”

“I hate it too,” Violet saidquietly. Elias looked at her with relief and surprise.

“I didn’t know you could hate anyone.”

Violet balled her hands into fists, glaring at the note Damien still held. ““I hate everything about our lives right now. This is a terrible, terrible place, but we have each other, and I promise you all that it won’t be forever. We just have to keep our chin up.”

“You’re right,” Klaus said.

“But it’s very difficult to stay cheerful when Count Olaf is around,” said Sofia. This was very true, for Count Olaf had a habit of sucking the fun and joy out of everything and anything around him.

“Book!” Phoebe shrieked and banged on the filthy table with her oatmeal spoon.

The siblings were pulled from their thoughts and looked once more at Count Olaf’s note.

“That’s a good idea,” Finn said. Lavender nodded.

“Maybe we can find a cookbook, and read about how to cook.”

“It can’t be that difficult to make a simple meal,” Klaus agreed.

The siblings spent several minutes hunting through Count Olaf’s kitchen, but they could find no cookbooks around.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” muttered Indigo.

“I think he’s illiterate,” said Elias.

“What does illiterate mean?” asked Loki.

“It means unable to read or write,” replied Klaus.

Loki shook his head. “Then Count Olaf can’t be. He leaves us all these horrible notes.”

Lavender nodded. “That’s true.”

“I miss reading very much,” said Klaus.

“Maybe we can find a library!” Sofia suggested.

Violet shook her head. “Not today. We have to cook for ten people.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. The siblings looked around at one another.

“Who in the world would want to visit Count Olaf?” Lavender asked. Even after some time staying with him the children found it hard to believe that anyone would want to visit Count Olaf.

“Maybe somebody wants to visit us,” Finn said hopefully.

Elias snorted. “All our friends have ditched us.”

“Elias,” hissed Indigo.

“Well it’s true!”

“I’ll have a look,” Violet said.

Her siblings followed her out of the kitchen and waited as she peered through the peephole.

“It’s Justice Strass!” she said happily.

“Ask her to adopt us!” said Loki from behind his other siblings.

“Ask her to report Count Olaf to Social Services!” said Elias.

“Cookbook!” said Kyra.

“Don’t let her in,” Indigo muttered, thinking that Justice Strauss would probably not want to enter Count Olaf’s dark and filthy room.

Violet opened the door. “Good morning Justice Strauss! How nice to see you!”

“Please forgive me for not stopping by sooner. I wanted to see how you children were settling in, but I had a very difficult case in the High Court and it was taking up much of my time.”

Klaus, who had been depraved of books for a long while now and was desperate for new information, jumped forwards to Violet’s side. “What sort of case was it?”

“Oh, I can’t really discuss it because it’s official business. But I can tell you it concerns a poisonous plant and illegal use of someone’s credit card.”

“Yeeka!” Noah cried, which could have meant a lot of things, but in the situation probably meant _how interesting.’_

Justice Strauss looked down at Noah and laughed. “Yeeka indeed,” she said, and patted Noah on the head. Noah took Justice Strauss’s hand and bit it, gently.

Damien shifted him against his hip. “That means he likes you. He and Sunny bite hard if they don’t like you.”

“Or if you want to give them a bath,” said Violet with a smile.

“I see,” Justice Strauss said, looking past Violet, Damien and Klaus to their siblings gathered in the dirty hallway behind. “Now then, how are you children getting on? Is there anything you desire?”

The Baudelaires thought about all the things they desired. More beds, for example. Proper cribs for the littlies.A closet instead of a cardboard box. Curtains for the window in their room. A piano to play and a kennel for Dog. An inventing studio and books to read. Of course, what they wanted the most was to be with their parents again, in their true home, and far, far away from Count Olaf.

Finally, Indigo spoke up. “Do you have any cookbooks we could borrow?”

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Lavender.

“Count Olaf has instructed us to make dinner for his theater troupe tonight, and we can’t find a cookbook in the house,” Damien explained.

“Cooking dinner for an entire theater troupe seems like a lot to ask of children,” said Justice Strauss.

“Count Olaf gives us a lot of responsibility,” Violet replied.

“I think it would be much nicer to live with you,” said Elias.

Justice Strauss laughed. “Well, I am afraid that’s not quite possible. But why don’t you come next door to my house and find a cookbook that pleases you?”

The siblings agreed and went with Justice Strauss to her clean, well-kept house. She led them through a beautifully cared for garden, which Dog began to thoroughly investigate. The children, meanwhile, followed Justice Strauss through a tunnel of wonderful flowers into an enormous, well lit room, and when they entered, all the siblings stopped to gasp and wonder.

The room was a library belonging to Justice Strauss. There were shelves and shelves of books from the floor to the ceiling, and more freestanding bookshelves in the middle of the room. There was only one place where there weren’t books, which was where some large, comfy looking chairs, a wooden table, and an old harp with lamps hanging over them stood. The Baudelaire children – especially Klaus and Sofia - were thrilled.

“This is a wonderful library!” Violet exclaimed.

Justice Straus smiled proudly. “Thank you very much. I’ve been collecting books for years, and I’m very proud of my collection. As long as you keep them in good condition, you are welcome to use any of my books, at any time.”

“Oh, yes please!” gasped Sofia, who had missed reading as much as Klaus.

“I should love to look at any of your books concerning mechanical engineering,” Indigo said.

“And I would like to read any books on ballroom dancing,” said Lavender.

“I would love to read the works of Frank Kafka if you have them,” said Klaus.

“And I would love to see any books you have on James Brown,” added Finn, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

“Do you have any books on wolves?” asked Loki.

Dog, who was sat in the doorway, barked.

“I’m more interested in tide pools,” said Elias.

“And I’d like books on historical medical treatments,” Sofia said.

“Snake!” exclaimed Kyra.

“Count!” yelled Phoebe, who had developed an odd fixation with numbers recently.

“Book!” shrieked Sunny, which could only really mean one thing, which was probably _‘_ don’t forget to pick out a picture book for Noah and me!’

Violet shook her head, looking over her siblings. “I think we had better find a cookbook first.”

The Baudelaires quietened down, remembering what they were actually here for.

“I don’t have many cookbooks, but the few I have are over there,” said Justice Strauss, indicating one of the far bookshelves.

For the next thirty minutes Violet, Damien, Indigo and Klaus read through several cookbooks that Justice Strauss recommended, Elias found a book on tide pools, Sofia read a book on medicine, Finn found a book on playing the harp and began to play repetitive chords on Justice Strauss’s old harp, Loki climbed the shelves until he found a book on wolves to read to Dog, Kyra found a large book with lots of pictures of snakes, Lavender found a book on numbers to read with Phoebe, and Sunny and Noah chewed on the chair legs.

Finally, Klaus found a recipe that sounded both easy to make and delicious. “‘Puttanesca.’ It’s an Italian sauce for pasta. All we need to do is sauté olives, capers, anchovies, garlic, chopped parsley, and tomatoes together in a pot, and prepare spaghetti to go with it.”

“That does sound easy,” Violet agreed, and the Baudelaire orphans looked round at each other scattered around the room.

Maybe, with Justice Strauss and her library, they could find some happiness for themselves here after all.

Violet copied the puttanesca recipe from the cookbook onto a piece of scrap paper, and Justice Strauss took her, Damien, Klaus and Sofia to the market to buy the ingrediants. Violet gave them each a portion of the money, and they split up to cover more ground. Violet tasted olives at a street vendor’s stall to decide on her favourite; Damien visited the pasta store and selected interestingly shaped noodles and spoke to the woman running the store so he could buy the proper amount for all the people that needed to be fed; and Sofia and Klaus went to the supermarket with Justice Straus to buy garlic, anchovies, capers, and tomatoes. With the money they had left, they bought a chocolate pudding mix.

“Thank you so much for helping us out today,” Violet said as they walked back to Count Olaf’s with Justice Strauss. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“You seem like very intelligent people. I daresay you would have thought of something. But it continues to strike me as odd that Count Olaf has asked you to prepare such an enormous meal.”

They arrived at Justice Strass’s, and Violet went with her to the library to collect her younger siblings. By then, Loko, Kyra, Phoebe, Sunny and Noah were taking a nap on the very comfortable armchairs, Finn was playing the harp with some success, and Lavender was dancing to the music.

“Time to go,” Violet said, although she was very reluctant to wake the littlies. For a moment she considered asking Justice Strauss if they could stay a little longer, but then she decided they had taken advantage of her kindness for too long. She, Indigo, Lavender and Elias gathered up the littlies and carried them out of the library. Justice Strauss smiled kindly at them as they left the garden. “I hope you children will come over soon and borrow books from my library. “It is a pleasure to see young people interested in books”

“Could we come over tomorrow?” Klaus asked quickly.

“I don’t see why not.”

“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this,” Violet said.

Damien nodded. “Tomorrow, before we use your library again, we would be happy to help you with anything you need help with.”

Justice Struass smiled sadly at the children. “That won’t be necessary. You are always welcome in my home.” Then she turned and went into her home, and, the Baudelaire orphans went into Count Olaf’s.


	6. Fire in a Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the Baudelaires host Count Olaf's disastrous dinner party.

When they entered the main entrance hall, they discovered that Count Olaf was home and, for once, not skulking in his forbidden tower room. Instead, he was stood on the staircase, and proceeded to sing a very off-key song with the collection of strange-looking people of all shapes and sizes stood behind him that appeared to involve spelling Count Olaf’s name over and over again.

Count Olaf finished on the staircase, flapping his cloak. “It’s the Count.”

The Baudelaires stared at him, dumb struck.

“Yes,” said Lavender. “We’ve met.”

Count Olaf indicated the collection of people with him. “Orphans. This is my theatre troupe.”

“That’s not how you say theatre,” muttered Sofia as the siblings looked at the people gathered on the staircase, which included a bald man, two women with white faces, a man with hooks for hands, and a person who the children weren’t sure if they were a man or a woman.

“And as anyone in the theatre knows, after a grand entrance the audience is supposed to applaud.”

The siblings exchanged looks. Violent clapped weakly whilst trying to hold Sunny, and Damien did the same while holding Noah. Klaus banged his two grocery bags together. Violet sighed. “We need to cook your meal.”

For the rest of the afternoon, the Baudelaires prepared the puttanesca sauce according to the recipe.

Violet and Indigo argued over how to fix the stove, which didn’t seem to work right, Damien chopped the anchovies, Lavender roasted the garlic, Klaus peeled the tomatoes, Elias pitted the olives, Sofia chopped the parsley, Finn set the stove on fire, Loki weighed the pasta, Dog barked at mice in the hall, Kyra washed the capers, Phoebe wandered around offering her siblings kitchen utensils they didn’t need, Noah banged on a pot with a wooden spoon and Sunny sang a very repetitive song she had written herself.

“I wish mother and father were here to see this,” Sofia said as the sauce simmered in the pot on the stove.

Lavender smiled. “I think they’d be proud of us.”

Damien gazed at the pasta. “I think so too.”

“We made our own food!” said Finn proudly.

As the orphans talked and reminisced about the past and what their parents would think, they mixed and tasted the chocolate pudding.

Just as Violet was putting the chocolate pudding in the refridgerator to cool, someone shouted from the dining room.

“When are we going to eat?”

“Yeah!” shouted someone else.

“Let’s have some dinner!”

There was then a rhythmic banging, which Damien presumed was the theatre troupe pounding on the table.

“We’d better serve the puttanesca,” Indigo said nervously.

“Yes,” said Violet, “we’d better. Damien, Klaus, get the noodles. Indigo and I will serve the sauce.”

“What do you want us to do?” asked Lavender.

“Start cleaning up the kitchen, and get the bowls for the chocolate pudding. Finn, watch the littlies.”

“Got it.”

Damien and Klaus separated the noodles into two serving bowls and Violet picked up the bowl of pasta sauce while Indigo took the ladle. Finn herded the littlies into a corner of the kitchen, Lavender and Sofia began to wash the dirty pots, Elias wiped them dry, and Loki broke a glass.

Violet led the way through to the dining room.

“Dinner is served,” Damien announced. He and Klaus took one side of the table each, doling out the pasta, while Violet and Indigo started on the left and began to make their way up. Count Olaf was giving some grand speech on acting, part of which involved declaring ‘there is no ‘I’ in acting,’ to which Damien muttered ‘what sort of acting is he trying to spell?’ to Klaus. They said nothing more however, since Count Olaf was not a man who appreciated being interrupted.

Indigo was interrupted from ladling out sauce to the bald man by a tug on her leg. She looked down and found Phoebe there, waving a whisk at her.

“No Phoebs, I don’t need that. Take it back to the kitchen.”

“Stir!” Phoebe proclaimed, happily waving the whisk. Unable to think of another solution, Indigo poured the Bald Man’s sauce over his pasta and then reached down to scoop Phoebe up, hefting her against her hip. Finally they reached Count Olaf at the head of the table. “I give, and I give to my public, just as I give, and I give to these orphans.”

He gave them nothing but chores, work, and misery Indigo thought bitterly.

“But sometimes I think to myself, ‘Is it worth it? Is it really worth it to chase an enormous fortune?’”

The man with hooks for hands cleared his throat and nodded at the five children gathered around Count Olaf at the head of the table.

Damien offered him the bowl of pasta. Count Olaf looked at it as though they were offering him rat poison, and Violet wished they were.

“Where’s the roast beef?”

“What?” asked Indigo.

Count Olaf turned to look at her and Violet. “The roast beef.”

“We didn’t make any roast beef,” Violet replied, holding out the pot of sauce.

“We made puttanesca sauce,” Indigo explained. Perhaps if they told him what it was, she thought, he would be less angry.

“And pasta,” Klaus added.

“And chocolate pudding for desert,” said Violet.

“What? No roast beef?”

“You didn’t tell us you wanted roast beef,” Damien pointed out. “If you’d told us you wanted roast beef, we’d have made roast beef.”

Count Olaf gestured at his troupe, who were all happily eating the pasta. “Look at my guests! They can hardly touch this revolting foreign food!”

Count Olaf stood suddenly, and the Baudelaires jumped back.

“Orphans, in agreeing to adopt you, I became your father, and as your father, I am not someone to be trifled with.”

Damien wondered whether the heavy pasta dish in his hands would be heavy enough to cave Count Olaf’s skull in.

“I asked you to make dinner, and all you have made is some disgusting sauce.”

“That’s what happens with wealthy kids,” the person who the siblings couldn’t tell whether they were a man or a woman said. “Money is really a corrupting influence.”

“After a long day preparing and before a big performance, I demand you serve roast beef to me and my guests.”

“My guests and me,” muttered Damien under his breath.

“Yeah!”

“Roast beef!”

“Beef!”

“We haven’t got any!” Klaus snapped.

“No! No! No!” Phoebe shouted.

Count Olaf looked at Phoebe as though he was only just learning she was there, and then suddenly snatched the infant, lifting her high above the table. Phoebe began crying immediately.

“Put her down immediately, you beast!” shouted Klaus, jumping up to try and rescue Phoebe, but he was too short to reach. Count Olaf raised Phoebe higher and seemed about to let her drop the distance to the hard floor.

Then, suddenly, he dumped her on the table with a thump and shoved her away from him. “You are so awful I can scarcely stand to touch you.”

There were a few shouts of agreement from his troupe. Violet shoved the heavy sauce pot at Indigo and jerked forwards to snatch Phoebe up, hugging her tight to her chest. “You’re a monster.”

“We’re leaving,” Count Olaf announced.

“But the girl said there was chocolate pudding,” said the Hook-Handed man.

Count Olaf turned to the siblings. ““Because you haven’t cleaned up yet, I suppose you can be excused from attending tonight’s performance. But after cleaning up, you are to go straight to your beds.”

Klaus, who had been staring at the floor, suddenly looked up. “You mean our bed! You have only provided us with one bed!”

The members of the theatre troupe stopped in their packing up at this, and looked from Klaus to Count Olaf as if trying to see what might happen next. Count Olaf raised his one eyebrow. “If you would like another bed, tomorrow you may go into town and purchase one.”

“You know we haven’t got any money,” Klaus said, his voice strained.

“Of course you do, You are the inheritors of an enormous fortune.”

Klaus remembered what Mr. Poe had told them. ““That money is only to be used once Violet and Damien are of age.”

Count Olaf reddened. He said nothing, and then in one sudden movement, he backhanded Klaus across the face.

Klaus fell to the floor, his glasses falling from his face. His left cheek burned as though it were on fire, and his heart pounded in his chest.

There was a long silence as everyone stared in shock, even the theatre troupe.

And then Damien gave an inhuman roar, raised the pasta dish, and slammed it into the side of Count Olaf’s head.

Violet and Indigo screamed, Count Olaf fell, his theatre troupe began shouting, and in the midst of it all Damien flung himself onto Count Olaf, slamming the pasta dish into any part of him he could, screaming incoherently.

“No no no no!”

Violet was the next to recover, shoving Phoebe at Indigo, who struggled to juggle both her and the sauce pot, and leaping forwards to try and grab one of Damien’s flailing limbs. “Damien! Damien, stop!”

He was beyond hearing her, one of his elbows catching her in the chest and sending her careening backwards into the Bald Man, who had been approaching likely to try and rescue his employer.

Elias and Lavender came charging through to the dining room to check on the disturbance, skidding to a stop in the doorway.

“Go Damien!” shouted Elias helpfully.

“Damien! No!” shouted Lavender.

Violet finally managed to grab on to one of Damien’s arms and yank him off the Count, bringing him down on top of her in a heap.

There was a long moment of stunned silence while the Count moaned in pain and Damien scrabbled against his sister in a desperate attempt to continue attacking Count Olaf.

“Gerrof me Vi! Gerrof me! I’ll kill him!”

Finally – fucking finally – the Count’s theatre troupe decided to make an actual move and do something helpful, with the person of indeterminate gender hurrying to the Count’s side and the Bald Man grabbing Damien’s arms and dragging him away across the dining room as he screamed and kicked.

“I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him!”

“Does this mean we won’t be performing tonight?” asked the man with hooks for hands.

“The Count probably won’t be able to perform for the week,” said the person of undetermined gender.

“What should we do with him?” asked the Bald Man, shaking the now snarling Damien.

“Lock him up,” said one of the White Faced Women.

“And throw away the key,” said the other.

“Hang him from the tower,” said the Hook-Handed man.

“Lock him up until the Count can deal with him,” said the person of indeterminate gender.

“He was protecting Klaus!” Indigo snapped.

“Careful what you say little missy,” rumbled the Bald Man. Damien kicked him, nearly twisting free until he was shoved face down on the table.

“Olaf’s been too kind to these children,” said one of the White Faced women.

“Spoilt rotten,” said the other.

“Little brats,” said both.

“Did you all miss the part where he slapped our brother across the face?” shouted Indigo.

“And threatened to drop Phoebe seven foot?” added Violet.

“You little brats need teaching some respect,” said the Hook-Handed man, snapping his hooks menacingly. Phoebe wailed.

“Let’s lock them all up until the Count can decide what to do with them.”

There seemed to be a general consensus for that, and so Violet, a still raging Damien, Indigo – who was snarling and swearing – a weeping Klaus, Elias, Lavender, and the still howling Phoebe were taken upstairs and locked in an empty room.

Their siblings, meanwhile, despite having had nothing to do with the commotion in the dining room, were taken back to their bedroom and locked up there.

All the Baudelaire siblings shared a long, cold, frightening, and sleepless night. Sofia, Finn and Loki huddled together on the one lumpy bed, with Dog laid underneath, waiting to bite anyone foolish enough to enter the room, and the three infants asleep on the curtain cushions.

Their other siblings had a much more uncomfortable night.

There were no beds in the room they had been shoved into, indeed, there was no furniture at all. Indigo sat with Phoebe dozing in her arms, pressed tight into a corner. Elias and Klaus curled up together in another, Elias keeping Klaus wrapped tight in his arms. Lavender curled up close to the two boys, resting her head on her arm.

And Violet and Damien?

Well, they got no sleep at all.

Violet spent the night trying to calm Damien, while Damien spent the night threatening and swearing to finish the job when he next saw Olaf. Nothing Violet could say or do would calm her brother down, and only the fact he might disturb their younger siblings stopped him from getting any louder.

It was a long night.


	7. No Time to Cry

Sofia, Finn, Loki and the infants rose early in the morning, having cried much of the night from fear, uncertainty, and grief.

“We can’t stay here a moment longer!” Finn declared.

“Yeah!” Loki agreed. “I’d rather be on the streets than live in this terrible place.”

“But anything could happen to us on the streets,” Sofia said.

“Damien just tried to bash our guardian’s head in and now our older siblings are all locked up somewhere in this shithole,” Finn pointed out.

Sofia frowned. “Finn! Language!”

“I wish our parents’ money could be used now, instead of when Violet and Damien come of age,” Loki said.

Finn smiled. “Then we could buy a castle and live in it, with armed guards patrolling the outside to keep out Count Olaf and his troupe.”

“And I could have a large library,” Sofia said wistfully, “as comfortable as Justice Strauss’s, but more enormous.”

“Snake!” Kyra shouted, which probably meant something like _‘and I would have a large reptile habitat, with many snakes.’_

“Gibbo!” Sunny shrieked, which most likely meant _‘_ _And we could have lots of things to bite,’_ because Sunny and Noah were always thinking about biting things.

Sofia drew in a deep breath. “But meanwhile, we must do something about this situation.”

“What about Justice Strauss?” asked Loki.

Finn nodded. “Yeah, she said we were always welcome in her home.”

“But she meant for a visit, or to use her library. She didn’t mean to live.”

“Yeah, but maybe if we told her everything, she would agree to adopt us.”

“Finn.”

Finn sighed. “What else can we do?”

“Poe!” said Kyra.

“Good idea!” Sofia exclaimed.

Kyra beamed proudly.

“We should go see Mr. Poe. He told us when he dropped us here that we could contact him at the bank if we had any questions.”

“But we don’t have a question,” Loki said, confused.

“Yeah, we have a complaint,” Finn agreed.

“I can’t think of anyone else to go to,” Sofia admitted. Though their parents had had many friends, Sofia knew of no way to contact them, and she wasn’t sure whether they would help even if she could.

“Mr. Poe is in charge of our affairs, and I’m sure if he knew just how awful Count Olaf is, he would take us right out of here.”

Finn imagined Mr. Poe arriving in his car and putting the Baudelaire orphans inside and felt, for the first time in a long time, an inkling of hope.

“Okay,” he said.

“Let’s do this!” Loki shouted enthusiastically.

Sofia tried to work out which room their siblings had been locked in, so they could tell them the plan, but Count Olaf’s troupe was still around, and the room they suspected their siblings were in was being guarded by the man with hooks for hands.

“Where are you children going?” he asked, leering down at them. Sofia drew her siblings behind her. _Be like Violet,_ she told herself, _be like Indigo._

“Downstairs, for some breakfast.”

He made an odd huffing noise and waved them away. Sofia steered her siblings down the staircase, and, once she was sure there were no troupe members around, out through the front door.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch – which, in this case, means locked in one of Count Olaf’s bedrooms – Violet, Damien, and Indigo were beginning to discuss a manner of escape.

“I could just pick the lock,” Indigo said, pulling a hairpin from her braid.

“But we know there’s a troupe member out there!” Lavender protested. They knew this, because they had heard voices not so long ago, with one of them being Sofia’s and the other being one of Count Olaf’s almost certainly lousy actors.

“Well, there’s more of us than there are of them, even with Sofia and Finn out the way,” Klaus said.

“Yeah, let’s just have Damien whammy them and then we can all dogpile!” said Elias.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we’re not going to do that.”

Her siblings grumbled complaints.

“If we had any furniture,” Lavender said thoughtfully, “we could make a battering ram and break the wall down. That would be cool.”

“It would be cool, but we don’t have any furniture,” Indigo pointed out.

“What about the window?”

“We’re three stories up,” Violet said.

“And Count Olaf’s garden has so many dangerous things we might land on,” added Indigo.

Elias pressed his lips together. “But we don’t all have to go, do we? Only one of us has to get out, and then they can run for help.”

Violet sighed. “I wish I had my inventing things.”

The other half of the Baudelaire siblings were, at that very moment, walking through the city in search of the banking district with the hopes of finding Mr. Poe.

Sofia carried Sunny, Finn carried Noah, and Loki and Kyra held hands while Dog circled around them and sniffed at all the new interesting smells. He was especially interested in the meat district, where he stopped to drool at all the delicious looking steaks. After passing through that, and the flower district, and the sculpture district, the siblings arrived at the banking district.

“Are we there now?” whined Loki, who had long since had to take Sunny so Sofia could carry Kyra, who didn’t normally need to be carried but wasn’t used to walking such long distances.

“Yes, this is it. Here, let’s have a drink first.”

The children stopped at the Fountain of Victorious Finance to take a sip of water, before trying to decide where to go next.

“Mulctuary Money Management,” Kyra said cheerfully.

“Is that where you want to start Kyra?” Sofia asked.

“Mr. Poe,” Kyra agreed, tugging at Sofia’s hand even though she was very tired and leading her siblings to a large, plain, square building. Once inside, the siblings were a little unnerved by all the people hurrying around the large room. Kyra led her siblings through it to the large office where she had met Mr. Poe before with Violet and Damien.

“Tada!”

“Awesome! Way to go Kyra!” Loki cheered, patting his little sister on the back.

Sofia knocked on the door.

“Now who could that be?” wondered Mr. Poe’s voice. Sofia turned the handle and led her siblings in.

“Why, hello,” said Mr. Poe

“How do you do children?”

“Terribly,” Finn said.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Do sit down.”

“Thank you,” said Sofia, shaking Mr. Poe’s hand and then sitting down in a large and comfortable chair.

Mr. Poe looked at them. “You children really must stop showing up unannounced. I’m very busy today, so I don’t have time to talk. Next time you should call ahead of time when you plan on being in the neighborhood, and I will put some time aside to take you to lunch.”

“We don’t want lunch!” snapped Finn, though he was actually quite hungry.

“We’re sorry we didn’t contact you before we stopped by Mr. Poe, but it’s urgent,” said Sofia.

“Count Olaf is a terrible person,” Finn said.

Loki nodded in agreement. “We can’t stay with him.”

“He struck Klaus across the face,” Sofia said furiously, but Mr. Poe had been distracted by one of the telephones.

“Poe here. What? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. Thank you.”

He hung up the phone.

“Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, Count Olaf. I’m sorry you don’t have a good first impression of him.”

“He struck Klaus across the face,” Sofia repeated, clenching her fists.

“And Damien beat him with a pasta dish!” Loki said cheerfully.

“I’m sorry, Damien did what? Oh, that’s terrible, truly terrible. I must make a call and ensure that boy doesn’t need counselling.”

“He doesn’t need counselling!” Sofia shouted.

“He needs taking away from Count Olaf’s!” Finn yelled.

“Yeah!”

Dog barked.

“What is that mangy mutt doing in the bank- oh, excuse me,” said Mr. Poe as another telephone rang. He answered it with another ‘Poe here,’ before giving the person on the other end a list of sevens and a ‘you’re welcome.’ When he hung up he coughed deeply and then looked again at the siblings. “Now, what was it you were saying about Damien?”

“Count Olaf,” Sofia said, “is a terrible person.”

“He’s only given us one bed,” Finn said crossly.

“He makes us do a great many difficult chores.”

“He drinks too much wine.”

“Fire!”

Mr. Poe held his hands up. “Children, children. Making you do chores doesn’t sound too bad.”

“He calls us orphans.”

“He has terrible friends.”

“He’s always asking about our money.”

“Poko!”

Mr. Poe shook his head. “You need to give yourselves time to adjust. You’ve only been there a few weeks.”

“We have been there long enough to know Count Olaf is a bad man,” Loki said.

“Swiper,” said Kyra.

Mr. Poe didn’t look as though he believed them. “Are you familiar with the term ‘in loco parentis’?”

Finn and Loki looked at Sofia. It didn’t sound like a medical term, so it probably wouldn’t be something she was interested in reading about, but she was the biggest reader of those there and therefore most likely to know vocabulary words and foreign phrases.

“Something about trains?” she asked, hoping Mr. Poe was going to take them by train to another relative.

“‘In loco parentis’ means ‘acting in the role of parent.’ It is a legal term and it applies to Count Olaf. Now that you are in his care, the Count may raise you using any methods he sees fit. I’m sorry if your parents did not make you do any household chores, or if you never saw them drink any wine, or if you like their friends better than Count Olaf’s friends, but these are things that you must get used to, as Count Olaf is acting in loco parentis. Understand?”

“But he struck Klaus!” Sofia exclaimed.

Mr. Poe peered at Finn and Loki. “They don’t look injured.”

“Not them! Klaus! He’s not here because Count Olaf locked him up in one of the bedrooms.”

“Quite right if he’s going round attacking people with pasta bowls.”

“That was Damien,” Finn muttered.

“Whatever Count Olaf has done, he has acted in loco parentis, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Your money is be well protected by myself and the bank, but Count Olaf’s parenting techniques are his own. Now, I hate to hurry you out, but I have much work to do.”

The children sat there, stunned. Sofia opened and closed her mouth. Violet would have known what to do, she thought bitterly, but she was not Violet, and nor was she Indigo.

Mr. Poe looked up, and cleared his throat. “‘Posthaste,’” he said, “means-”

“-means you’ll do nothing to help us,” Sofia finished, biting back tears. As another phone began ringing, she stood up suddenly, picked up Noah, and walked out of the room. Finn picked up Sunny and followed her, and Loki took Kyra’s hand and called sadly for Dog.

The small group of forlorn orphans found their way out of the bank and stood on the street, not knowing what to do next.

“What shall we do next?” Finn asked.

“We must find someone who will help us,” Sofia said. “Can you remember any of mother or father’s friends?”

But Finn couldn’t, and neither could Loki, or Kyra, and little Sunny and Noah certainly couldn’t, for they were far too young. The siblings sat sadly around the Fountain of Victorious Finance and wished desperately for some luck, but alas, there was none.

“We’ll have to run away,” said Finn miserably.

“Yes,” agreed Sofia. “But first, we have to get the others out.”


	8. Never Say Goodbye

Back at Count Olaf’s, the other half of the Baudelaires were still trying to work out their options.

Lavender wanted to break down the wall and kept kicking it, which was doing nothing but hurting her bare feet.

Indigo still wanted to pick the lock and was arguing with Violet over why it was a bad idea – _‘there’s still a guard out there Indigo!_ ’

Damien was trying to work out whether they could get out through the cracked ceiling without bringing it down on top of them.

Klaus was sulking in a corner with Phoebe.

And Elias?

Well, Elias was considering throwing himself out the window just to end it all.

“You know,” he said eventually, “there’s an awful lot of ivy and loose stone on this house. I bet if I were careful I could climb down.”

“That’s far too dangerous,” Violet protested.

“No, really. It would be just like at the beach.”

Indigo walked over and peered out and down the window. “It could be possible.”

“I’ll try it,” Damien said immediately. “I got us into this.”

“I’m the better climber,” Elias argued.

“And as your big brother, I say you are not climbing from the three story window.”

“I mean, first we’d have to get the window open,” said Indigo, but no one was listening to her.

While most of the older Baudelaires bickered over how to escape a bedroom, the younger Baudelaires were trudging back to Count Olaf’s neighbourhood.

“Where shall we go?” asked Loki.

“Somewhere,” replied Finn.

“Anywhere has to be better than Count Olaf,” Sofia agreed.

“If we killed him,” Loki said falteringly, and Dog wagged his tail, “do you think we could live alone?”

“I think we’d be arrested,” said Sofia.

“But how would they know who did it? There’s so many of us!”

Finn laughed, but Sofia shook her head.

“That’s an awful thing to say.”

“Maybe Count Olaf won’t want us anymore anyway,” said Finn. “Damien did hit him pretty hard after all.”

That thought raised the children’s spirits slightly, and they picked up the pace, trudging a little faster.

Back at Count Olaf’s, the siblings were still arguing, both for the same and different reasons as before.

Damien and Elias were still arguing over who would climb out the window. In order for either of them to climb out, however, the window would first have to be opened, and, as it turned out, the window didn’t like that idea, so Violet, Indigo and Lavender were arguing over how to get the damn thing open.

“Just smash it!”

That was Lavender’s opinion, of course, because that was often Lavender’s opinion of things that were in her way.

“If you’d just let me see, I could pick the lock.”

That was Indigo, who was apparently in favour of having severely questionable skills.

“If we had anything to work with, we could invent something to get it open.”

That was Violet, who was stood in front of the window pondering the problem.

“Look, just let me see!”

Indigo.

“I still say we should smash it!”

“We’re not smashing it! I can pick the lock if you three would let me get a look at it!”

“Maybe I could make a skeleton key.”

“I could just—”

“Move away, I’m just going to smash it!”

“You are not going to smash it!”

“I regret not throwing myself out the window when I had chance,” said Elias.

There was a click as the door unlocked.

All the children stopped, and turned, slowly, to face it.

When it opened, Count Olaf stood there in the doorway, looking ominous and displeased. “Good afternoon orphans.”

When Sofia, Finn, Loki, Kyra, Sunny, Noah, and Dog got back to Count Olaf’s, they found their siblings had already been released. Violet, Indigo, Klaus and Elias were gathered outside, Elias being held back by the man with hooks for hands and Violet staring blankly at the end of the street. Count Olaf was stood on the doorstep, looking considerably worse for wear.

“You’re a monster,” Violet said.

“What’s going on?” asked Loki.

“They’ve taken them away!” Klaus shouted.

“Taken who away?” asked Sofia.

The Hook-Handed man frowned. “Are these ones yours too boss?”

“Never seen them before in my life. Disgusting little creatures.”

“Hey!” snapped Finn.

“Those are our siblings you morons!” Indigo ducked under the arm of the person who looked like neither a man or a woman and sprinted down the path to her younger siblings. “Thank goodness you’re safe! Where have you been?”

Sofia sighed. “We’ll explain later. What’s happening?”

“Ugh. If I’d known there was more of you brats I’d have sent some more of you away.”

“What does he mean send us away?”

“He’s sent Damien, Lavender and Phoebe away somewhere. Says he can’t care for this many children.”

“He can’t care for any children,” muttered Finn.

“True.”

“Now, you orphans all need to be a bit more grateful. I, Count Olaf, have opened my house and my home to you and all that you require. All I ask in return is that you bring with you your enormous fortune and do everything that I say. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Bastard!” screamed Elias. “Where are you sending them?”

“If you’re a very lucky boy, you might get to find out. Now, excuse me. I have some skulking to do.” He looked them over. “Don’t dally too long orphans. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your poor, defenceless siblings, now would we?”

And with that, he swept back into the house, leaving the children and two troupe members behind.


	9. Stick Together (never let me go)

Damien, Lavender, and Phoebe were currently sat in the back of Count Olaf’s large black automobile, banging on the doors and trying to release the child locks.

“Where are you taking us?” Damien snapped at the two pale faced women, who were sat in the front.

“Out to a farm.”

“Olaf has made alternative arrangements for you to stay there.”

“Permanently.”

“We want to stay with our siblings,” Lavender said, very quietly.

“Facimile!” shrieked Phoebe.

“Olaf has decided there are just too many of you.”

“And quite frankly, we agree.”

“So out to the country you go!”

“Mr. Poe won’t authorise this!” Damien snapped.

“We need to stay together!”

“Pack!”

“Children these days are so noisy.”

“They really should be seen and not heard.”

“I’ll give you seen and not heard—”

“Damien.” Lavender laid a hand on her older brother’s shoulder. He froze. She slid closer to him. “Let’s just wait until they stop the car.”

Back at Count Olaf’s, Sofia was relaying all that had happened during their failure of a trip to the bank.

“So Mr. Poe won’t help us at all?” asked Klaus miserably.

“He says because Count Olaf is in loca parantease—”

“‘In loco parentis,’” corrected Sofia.

Finn nodded. “Yeah, that. It means Count Olaf can do whatever he wants with us.”

“But that can’t be right!” exclaimed Indigo as she paced their small, cramped bedroom. “There are laws against this kind of thing!”

“I guess he hasn’t broken enough of them yet.”

“He’s only given us one bed for all of us! He makes no attempt to care for us! He hit Klaus! He’s sent Damien and Lavender off who knows where and none of this is _going far enough_?”

There was silence.

She had to do what was best, Violet thought as she shifted Sunny against her hip, to keep her remaining siblings safe.

If Mr. Poe had said this was acceptable, Indigo thought bitterly, they couldn’t ring the police. Count Olaf was their legal guardian after all.

Elias thought that maybe he should have helped Damien last night. They might have been able to kill Count Olaf with two of them, and then they wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Maybe Justice Strauss can help us,” said Klaus.

Violet shook her head. “Oh, Klaus. Justice Strauss is nice, but legally Count Olaf is our guardian.”

She would have to see, Sofia decided, what books on survival first aid Justice Strauss had in her library. They might end up being useful.

Finn thought there should be a tragic soundtrack playing in the background. Something with piano and violin.

Loki petted Dog’s head and looked out through their small, dingy window, wondering where his missing siblings were now. Count Olaf had refused to tell any of them where he was sending them.

Kyra lay on the curtain cushions and sucked her thumb like she had not done for at least a year. She wondered what would would happen when she grew too big to sleep here with her baby siblings.

Sunny and Noah had fallen asleep, for although they were very intelligent like all their older siblings, they were still babies and very tired.

They dreamt of biting Count Olaf.

An indeterminable distance away, in the back of Count Olaf’s car, Damien had put his arm around Lavender, holding Phoebe in his lap. He had to keep them safe, now more than ever.

Lavender was trying to work out some sort of a plan for when the car stopped, as they had long since stopped passing any sort of buildings or civilisation. If they ran, she thought, there would be nowhere to go.

Phoebe, meanwhile, had fallen asleep in Damien’s arms. She wondered when they’d be going home.


	10. The World is Unfair

The white faced women drove through the night, stopping only one to buy petrol. Damien woke his sleeping sisters then, hoping they might be able to escape from the car, but they had found the doors locked and the windows closed. Damien tried banging on the window and hitting it with his feet, but nothing did them any good.

The white faced women returned, and the car drove on.

“Where do you think we’re going?” Lavender whispered.

“Can’t be a farm,” Damien replied. “Nothing grows out here in the Hinterlands.”

Meanwhile, back at Count Olaf’s, the rest of the Baudelaires were rousing to the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. Slowly, they each chose clothes from the cardboard box and stumbled downstairs to the kitchen.

There, they found not a note from Count Olaf, but Count Olaf himself, sat at the head of the table. His face was still bruised black and swollen from where Damien had hit him.

Next time, Violet told herself, she was going to give her brother a hand.

“Good morning, orphans. I have your oatmeal here in bowls ready for you.”

One by one, the siblings took seats at the table. There wasn’t enough, even without Damien and Lavender, so Kyra had to share with Sofia and Finn with Klaus. They looked puzzled at the oatmeal. Count Olaf, they knew, was a terrible person, and all of them decided at once that he had probably put rat poison in the oatmeal.

That was what Elias would have done anyway.

On top of the oatmeal, they found fresh raspberries had been sprinkled. They hadn’t had raspberries – or anything nice, really – since their parents died.

“Thank you,” Sofia said.

Finn picked out one of the raspberries and examined it.

Count Olaf took a berry from Noah’s bowl and, after looking at each one of the children, he put it in his mouth and ate it.

“Aren’t raspberries delicious? They were my favourite berries when I was your age.”

“But we’re all different ages,” said Finn. Count Olaf ignored him.

“I received a phone call from Mr. Poe yesterday. He told me some of you children had been to see him.” He eyed Indigo pointedly, even though she had spent most of yesterday locked in one of the many foul rooms in Count Olaf’s foul house and could not possibly had been to visit Mr. Poe at the bank.

“He told me that you children appeared to be having some difficulty adjusting to the life I have so graciously provided for you.”

Gracious, Elias thought incredulously. There was nothing gracious about living with Count Olaf. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be properly clean again.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“We’re very sorry Mr. Poe bothered you,” said Violet, who didn’t want any more of her siblings to be sent away to places unknown.

“I’m glad he did, because I want all of you to feel at home here, now that I am your father.”

All the children shuddered at that, imagining what their life might have been like with Count Olaf as their father.

“You’re not our father!” Elias snapped, kicking his chair back. “You never will be!”

“Elias!” Indigo said, catching his arm. After the events of the last two days, it seemed like it would be dangerous to lose their tempers.

“I have been very nervous about my performances with the theater troupe lately and I’m afraid I may have acted a bit standoffish.”

Klaus knew the world ‘standoffish,’ and he knew it did not apply to Count Olaf, but his face was still bruised, so he said nothing.

“Therefore, to make you feel a little more at home here, I would like to have you participate in my next play. Perhaps if you took part in the work I do, you would be less likely to run off complaining to Mr. Poe.”

Elias glared at Sofia. He was sure that whatever new torture was about to come their way, it would be all her fault.

“Participate?” Indigo asked in horror. They already did a great deal of work for Count Olaf and had no great wish to be made to do more.

“In what way would we participate?” Violet asked.

“Well,” said Count Olaf, his eyes shining and bright, the way they are when someone is telling a joke, “the play is called The Marvellous Marriage, and it is written by the great playwright Al Funcoot. We will give only one performance, on this Friday night. It is about a man who is very brave and intelligent, played by me. In the finale, he marries the young, beautiful woman he loves, in front of a crowd of cheering people.”

“And what would we do?” Violet asked cautiously. “I am very handy with tools, so perhaps I could help you build the set.”

“Build the set? Heavens, no. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be working backstage.”

“But I’d like to,” Violet said. “Indigo and I are very good with mechanics.”

Count Olaf raised his one eyebrow ever so slightly, and for a moment Indigo feared he would strike her older sister like he had struck Klaus.

“But I have such an important role for you onstage. You are going to play the young woman I marry.”

Violet shrunk down in her chair at the thought of marrying Count Olaf, even just for a play.

“It’s a very important role, although you have no lines other than ‘I do,’ which you will say when Justice Strauss asks you if you will have me.”

“Justice Strauss?” said Indigo.

“What does she have to do with it?”

“She has agreed to play the part of the judge, as I wanted to be neighbourly, as well as fatherly.”

“Count Olaf,” Violet said hesitatingly. “I’m not sure I’m talented enough to perform professionally. I would hate to disgrace your good name and the name of Al Funcoot. Plus I’ll be very busy in the next few weeks working on my inventions and-” She looked at Finn, who mouthed the words ‘roast beef. “-and learning how to prepare roast beef.”

Count Olaf stood, and walked over so he could stand over Violet, who had been sat at the other end of the table to him.

“You will,” he said, “participate in this theatrical performance. I would prefer it if you would participate voluntarily, but as I believe Mr. Poe explained to you, I can order you to participate and you must obey.”

Violet stared at him as without another word he walked away from her and disappeared into the house.

“He’s up to something,” Elias said.

“I mean, I guess it won’t hurt to be in the play,” Klaus said shakily. “It seems to be very important to him, and we want to keep on his good side.”

“Klaus, you’re an idiot. He’s clearly planning something,” said Elias.

“Elias, don’t insult your brother,” scolded Indigo.

“You don’t think those berries were poisoned, do you?” Sofia asked with some concern.

Violet shook her head. “Olaf is after the fortune we will inherit. Killing us would do him no good. If that was what he wanted, he’d have sent us away with Damien.”

There was quiet for a moment while her younger siblings processed this information.

“What good does it do him to have us be in his play?” Klaus demanded finally.

“It’s probably going to be a terrible play.”

“Count Olaf is a terrible person.”

Violet sighed. “I don’t know.”

If only Damien were here. He might have known.

“It’s got to be something about inheritance,” Indigo said.

“If only we knew more about inheritance law,” Sofia said wistfully. She knew a great deal about medicine, but very little about dull, dry law things.

“We could ask Mr. Poe about it,” Klaus suggested.

“Didn’t you hear what they said last night?” Elias snapped. “Mr. Poe won’t help us.”

“But he knows all those Latin legal phrases.”

“And he’d probably call Count Olaf again, and then he’d know we were on to him,” Sofia pointed out.

“What about Justice Strauss?” suggested Finn. “She’s a judge, so she must know all about the law.”

Indigo frowned. “She is Olaf’s neighbour. What if she tells him we asked?”

“Book!” shouted Sunny suddenly. She probably meant that she wanted something hard, like a nice hardback book, to bite for a bit, but it got her older siblings thinking.

“Justice Strauss did say we were free to visit her library,” said Klaus.

“And Count Olaf didn’t leave us any chores to do,” said Indigo. “So I suppose we are free to visit. She is a judge; she must have a great many books on law.”

Meanwhile, Damien, Lavender, and Phoebe finally appeared to have arrived.

The word ‘arrived,’ here, is being used to say that the car had stopped. They did not, in fact, appear to have arrived anywhere.

“Here we are,” said one of the white faced women cheerfully.

“Out you get,” said the other.

Phoebe looked at Lavender.

Lavender looked at Damien.

Damien looked out the window. “There’s nothing here.”

“Of course there is!”

“Just follow the path!”

“We don’t have time to take you all the way down there.”

“We’re very busy don’t you know?”

“Pish,” said Phoebe, a word which here most likely means she was hungry, because she was a toddler and hadn’t been fed in a day and a half.

“You’ve taken a sixteen hour detour into the Hinterlands. I don’t think you’re very busy,” said Damien.

“Yeah, you’ve at least got time to actually take us to… wherever it is we’re meant to be going.”

“There’s the path.”

“Follow it.”

Damien peered out the window. Through the dry brush of the Hinterlands he could just about make out a narrow path, weaving away to them to something that might be a structure in the distance.

“You’re… kidding, right?”

The woman in the passenger seat got out and opened Lavener’s door.

“Out you get.”

“Off you go.”

Lavender looked at Damien. He sighed and indicated the door. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid over and swung her legs from the car, reaching back to take Phoebe from Damien.

“Mind your feet,” he warned as she stepped aside so he could follow her. The two of them looked at the dirt path with some dismay and the possibility of a building in the distance with caution and mistrust.

“What now?”

“Now you hurry on off to your new home,” said the white faced woman that had got out of the car as she got back in.

The second woman revved the car. “I would move quickly. I’ve heard there’s a very hungry pride of lions around here somewhere.”

The car pulled forwards and turned around before speeding off back the way it had come.

Lavender stared after them. “Damien?”

“Let’s get moving.”

“We’re not actually going to that house? Any friend of Count Olaf’s…”

“Is probably just as big a bastard as he is,” agreed Damien. “We need to find a phone, or a house, or another car.”

Lavender shifted Phoebe against her hip. “Damien, that was the only car we’ve seen for hours.”

“Sip!” shouted Phoebe, which most likely meant she was thirsty.

“We’ll think of something,” he said, gazing at the horizon. “There’s always something.”


	11. Picking Up the Pieces

The Baudelaire siblings had gathered in front of Justice Strauss’s neatly kept home. She greeted them with a smile. “Baudelaires! Oh, I am so glad you came to visit!”

“It’s good to see you too Justice Strauss,” said Violet.

“How do you do?” said Indigo.

“Just fine, thank you,” replied Justice Strauss.

“We were hoping we could use your library again.”

“But of course! Come on through!”

The children followed her around the building to her tunnel of flowers. Wherever Damien was now, Violet thought bitterly, she was sure he was not in a beautiful garden such as this one.

“Do you have any books on the theatre?” asked Finn as they entered the library.

Justice Strauss led him across to a small section of the library and a half shelf of books. “Ah, the theatre. I see you’re settling in to having an actor for a guardian.”

“Count Olaf is a monster,” Sofia muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said-”

Indigo cleared her throat. “She said the theatre is very exciting.”

“No, I did not!”

Indigo frowned at her sister.

Sofia scowled and muttered ‘pure evil’ under her breath.

“Yes, indeed. The theatre is such an exciting thing. Why, I’ve always wanted to perform onstage, ever since I was a little girl. And now Count Olaf has given me the opportunity to live my lifelong dream. You children must be thrilled to be a part of the production!”

“I guess we are,” said Violet, though she would be more thrilled to know both where Count Olaf had sent Damien, Lavender and Phoebe and what he was planning with this play.

“Justice Strauss, do you have anything on local ordinances?” asked Klaus, hoping to take her attention away from thoughts of the theatre, which were clearly upsetting Violet.

“Ah, local ordinances,” she said wistfully, and then frowned. “Wait, are you sure? Even I don’t like reading books on local ordinances, and I work in law!”

“Elias, Sofia and I are considering careers in law,” Klaus lied quickly.

“Oh yes,” agreed Sofia. “I find those kind of books very interesting Justice Strauss.”

“Speak for yourselves,” muttered Elias.

“And we’re here to support them,” said Indigo.

“Goodness. Well, to each their own. There are countless types of books in this world, which makes good sense because there are countless types of people.”

“That’s very true,” agreed Violet.

Elias scowled at the law books. “Some of them are pure evil.”

“Or incompetent,” added Sofia.

Indigo frowned at the triplets. “You’re not helping matters.”

“Don’t count me in with them!” protested Klaus.

“Well,” Justice Strauss said, looking at the assorted siblings, of which Finn, Loki and Kyra were already scattering around the library, “Sunny, Noah, Kyra and Phoebe can’t possibly be interested.” She frowned, looking them over and evidently running a quick head count as Violet often did and their mother and father had done before her. “Oh, where is Phoebe? And Damien and Lavender for that matter?”

“We’re hoping we’ll be able to find out,” Violet replied sadly.

“Oh, I see. I do hope they come home soon; the streets are so dangerous! Who knows what might happen to them out there!”

Indigo cleared her throat as Violet began to tear up. “Perhaps Sunny and Noah would like to help with your gardening instead Justice Strauss.”

“Wipi!” Sunny shouted, which could have meant many things, but in this case probably meant ‘ _gardening would be much more interesting than law books!_ ’

“Just make sure they don’t eat any dirt,” said Sofia as Indigo handed Noah to Justice Strauss.

“Of course.”

As she passed Klaus, Justice Strauss stopped and frowned at him. “Oh my. Klaus, what happened to your face?”

“We’re trying to find out,” Sofia replied.

“Well, I do have a section on rashes. It’s right next to Chinese cars, just over there.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

The remaining Baudelaires exchanged looks as they waited for her to leave the room. Klaus shook his head in desperation. “She’s stagestruck! She won’t believe that Count Olaf is up to something, no matter what.”

“She wouldn’t help us anyway,” Sofia put in miserably. She had been in a bad mood since her meeting with Mr. Poe yesterday.

“She’s a judge, and she’d just start babbling about in loco parentis like Mr. Poe.”

“I just don’t see how it could possibly be relevant in our case,” said Indigo, “with such an evil man like Count Olaf.”

“Why don’t we see if Justice Strauss has any books on it?” suggested Violet. “You and I can research that. Klaus, Elias, Sofia, you take local ordinances. Finn, Loki and Kyra can handle the books on the theatre.”

Quickly, the Baudelaires separated, hurrying to their respective sections. Finn and Loki pulled out large books on the theatre and the implications of performances, as well as one with lots of pictures for Kyra. Sofia, Elias and Klaus took books on local ordinances and sat down on three of the comfy chairs to begin their research. Lastly, Violet and Indigo found a books on guardianship and adoption laws, one of which was lying on Justice Strauss’s own reading table.

“I wonder what she was reading it for,” Indigo said out loud.

“Maybe she has a case in the Court,” replied Violet, dropping her own book on the table. “Or maybe she wants to adopt a child of her own.”

“That would be nice,” said Loki from the other side of the bookcase. “We might have someone else to play with.”

Indigo frowned at him. “Don’t be daft! We should be out of Count Olaf’s house by then! There’s no way we can stay with such an awful man!”

“That’s why we’ve got to find a legal reason to stop this performance,” Klaus said firmly.

“This has got to be the second worst day of our lives.”

Damien, Lavender, and Phoebe were sat on the side of the road, in the dubious shade of a young sapling. Phoebe was sucking her thumb, a habit she had grown out of many months ago, in the vain hope of wetting her mouth a little. Lavender was rubbing her bloody feet, trying to clean dirt from the wounds. Damien, meanwhile, was gazing into the distance. They still had yet to see one car, or any sign of life. They weren’t even sure they were still on the right road: the two white faced women had taken so many different turns and corners during the drive that the siblings had lost their orientation, and they had already passed three forks in the road, two of which had two directions and one which had four.

They were well and truly, utterly, lost.

Damien stood, sharp and sudden enough that it made his sisters jump. “This is useless.”

“What?”

“No one is out here; no one is coming! We need to find water.”

“But we wouldn’t be able to drink it. We’ve got no way of purifying it.”

Damien groaned and ran a hand through his hair. There had to be something he could do, he thought.

He should be better than this.

But Violet was always the one that knew what to do, the one with the plans and the ability to care for their siblings.

Hell, he couldn’t even look after two of them!

“Let’s keep going to the next fork,” he said. “If we haven’t found anything by then, we’ll have to leave the road to look for water. If we can find animal tracks or something, maybe they’ll lead us to water. Come on.” He held his hand out. Lavender took it, and then picked up Phoebe, and together they continued down the road through the wasteland.

Meanwhile, back at Justice Strauss’s library, their siblings were still researching. Law books tend to be very long, very dull, and very difficult to read, and the Baudelaires were not enjoying them at all. Violet kept thinking of Damien and Lavender and Phoebe, wherever they were. Perhaps, she thought, Count Olaf had chained them up in a torture dungeon, or sent them to a place that taught people to be as terrible as he was, or thrown them in a pit with starving wolves. The triplets were motivating themselves with the thought of not letting anything else terrible happen to one of their siblings. Loki and Kyra, meanwhile, had fallen asleep on one of Justice Strauss’s very comfortable armchairs, and none of their older siblings had the heart to wake them.

“Have you found anything?” Indigo asked.

“No,” Sofia replied.

“No,” echoed Elias.

“I’ve found a case from fifty years ago about a woman who left money to her pet weasel and not her sons,” said Klaus.

“What happened?”

“The weasel died.”

“Oh.”

“How about you Finn?” Indigo asked.

“Well, I’ve found a story about some actors who put on a play of Macbeth without any clothes.”

Sofia blushed. “You mean they were all naked, onstage?”

“Only for a bit. Then the police came. But I don’t think this helps us.”

“Did you find anything?” Klaus asked hopefully.

Indigo sighed. “Nothing that can help us. I read about a case of a daughter suing her parents for abuse when they tried to make her donate a kidney to her brother, but that doesn’t help us at all.”

“What are we going to do?” moaned Finn.

“We could just refuse to perform,” said Klaus. His siblings looked at him. He shrugged. “It’s not like Count Olaf can force us to go on stage. Even without Damien and Lav, there’s more of us than there is of him and his dreadful troupe.”

“That’s true,” agreed Indigo.

“But what if he orders something to be done to Damien and Lav because we won’t perform?” fretted Violet.

“Maybe we’ll have to take that chance,” said Indigo very quietly.

“How can you say that? He struck Klaus across the face; we don’t know what he’s capable of!”

“But there’s no way he can get hold of our fortune just by putting us in a play,” Indigo said. “And he couldn’t hurt any of us in public.”

“Please don’t fight,” whispered Sofia.

“Then he could wait until we weren’t in public any more!”

“I’m sick of these books, and they aren’t helping us. I’m going to go out and help Justice Strauss in the garden.”

Violet watched her sister leave the library and sighed heavily. She was supposed to take care of her younger siblings, but so far everything was turning into a disaster. Damien, Lav and Phoebe were gone, she was fighting with Indigo, and Count Olaf and his play were looming over everything.

“There has to be something,” Elias said, turning through his ridiculously large book.

“There’s always something,” Klaus agreed, and gave his brother a smile.

Violet looked out the window and saw Count Olaf’s crooked tower looming up behind Justice Strauss’s house. _There’s always something._

“I’m going to ask Justice Strauss if I can use her telephone,” she said.

The triplets watched her leave the library and felt a sting of hopelessness set in. The performance was not so far away, and they couldn’t find anything on why Count Olaf would want them to perform in a play.

“What are we going to do?” Sofia bemoaned.

“You lot!”

A voice from the doorway surprised them from their thoughts. “Count Olaf sent me to look for you. You are to return to the house immediately.”

Elias looked over his shoulder and saw the man with hooks for hands standing there. “Oh, it’s just you. No thank you.”

The Hook-Handed man narrowed his eyes and walked into the library. “What are you doing in this musty old room, anyway?”

“What does it look like we’re doing?”

The Hook-Handed man looked at the title of Klaus’s book. “Inheritance Law and Its Implications? Why are you reading that?”

“Why do you think I’m reading it?”

Elias kicked him under the table.

“Ow!”

The man put one of his wicked looking hooks on Klaus’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think you should never be allowed inside this library again, at least until Friday. We don’t want a little boy getting big ideas. Now, where are the rest of you brats?”

“In the garden,” Klaus said, shuddering at the man touching him.

“Why don’t you go and get them, and stop bothering us?” Elias said.

The man leant over them all, so close they could smell his foul breath. “Listen to me very carefully you little brats. The only reason Count Olaf hasn’t torn you limb from limb is that he hasn’t gotten hold of your money. He allows you to live while he works out his plans. But ask yourselves this. What reason will he have to keep you alive after he has your money? What do you think will happen to you then?”

Sofia froze up. She wanted to say something in defence of her brothers, but she just felt very, very small, and cold, and afraid. Elias was trembling, and Klaus was just making strange sounds.

“When the time comes, I believe Count Olaf just might leave you to me. So if I were you, I’d start acting a little nicer.”

Klaus shuddered, trying to imagine all the implications of that statement for him and his siblings. Elias put one hand on Klaus’s knee under the table and the other on Sofia’s.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I have to fetch your poor orphan siblings.”

The remaining Baudelaires in the library (the ones not asleep) let out a breath of relief and went limp as the door closed behind the terrible man.

“We must do something,” Elias said.

“What can we do?” Sofia asked.

Klaus looked about the library. These were their last moments in the library, and maybe their last opportunity to work out what Count Olaf wanted. Quickly, he untucked his shirt and took the book he had been reading, stuffing it underneath and hastily retucking his shirt. Elias quickly followed his lead, and, catching on quickly, Finn grabbed one of the law books at random to hide under his own shirt. Sofia lifted her skirt and tucked her book underneath, beneath her waistband. It looked a little awkward, and she went to pick up Kyra to hide the lump as they heard the footsteps of the Hook-Handed man returning.

“We’re ready to go,” Klaus said hastily as he entered the library, escorting Violet and Indigo, who were carrying the baby twins. The three hurried from the library, hoping nothing would be said about the book shaped lumps in their shirts.

Maybe, Klaus thought, just maybe, the books they were carrying could save their lives.

While their siblings were being glumly led back to Count Olaf’s, covertly carrying their smuggled goods, Damien, Lavender and Phoebe were still wandering the Hinterlands. Damien was now carrying Phoebe while Lavender walked ahead, sticking the soft sand of the desert rather than the hard, hot tarmac of the road.

She perked up suddenly, lifting a hand to shield her eyes, and took a few more steps forwards. “Damien! I think I see something!”

He hurried to join her as she pointed ahead. There, far ahead, was… something, sticking out in the nothingness of the desert.

“That’s just a rock,” Damien said miserably.

“I think it’s a mailbox.”

“It’s a rock.”

“Look, you can see the building back there.” She pointed further from the road, at a vague black shadow on the land.

“That’s another rock.”

Lavender pouted. “Well, even if it is, it could be shelter. Anything has to be better than this sun.”

That was true. Damien and Phoebe were mostly covered: Phoebe was wearing one of her striped onesies and Damien was clad in his clothes from the beach all that time ago, cargo pants and a long sleeves top, but Lavender’s dress was short sleeved and knee length, and her bare skin was already turning red under the sun. Damien feared if they didn’t find shelter soon she might collapse from heatstroke. He gave her a sharp nod. “Alright. But we better speed up.”

When the children got back to the house, there was a new list of chores waiting for them on the kitchen table, one that was longer than usual and included the note of ‘wash and cut hair.’ Whose hair, the siblings weren’t exactly sure, and they didn’t have any scissors anyway.

“If we did, we could stab him with them,” said Elias.

“Elias!”

“Well we could! Damien had the right idea!”

“Maybe we should stab Mr. Poe too while we’re at it,” muttered Sofia.

Indigo scowled. “No one is stabbing anyone.”

“You’re missing out.”

“These chores are ridiculous,” muttered Violet, tossing the list down on the table. She was still thinking of Damien and Lavender. The white faced women had yet to return, meaning they were out there somewhere with her siblings. She expected that if they refused to go through with Count Olaf’s plan, he would use them as leverage. He was that much of a terrible person.

“We’ve still got these,” Klaus said, tapping the book under his sweater. He didn’t want to take it out here, for fear that Count Olaf or his troupe might see.

“You do?” Indigo asked disapprovingly. “Klaus!”

Violet shook her head. “You four make a start on that. Watch the twins. Indigo, Loki, Kyra and I will start these chores.”

Indigo huffed. “I still say this has to be illegal.”

“It probably is, but until we can get out of here, I’d rather not piss Count Olaf off. Now come on.”

The good news was that the rock, as it turned out, really was a mailbox.

The bad news was that it was badly rusted and tilted at an angle; clearly unused for many years. Beyond it was a dusty, brush covered road leading back to what now more clearly looked like some kind of building. The three siblings hurried down the dusty old road towards it. Damien was hoping for a phone; Lavender was hoping for water; Phoebe was just hoping for somewhere safe out of the sun. Damien held her in his arms, leading the way, while Lavender now trailed behind. Her feet were burning on the hot sand and she bounced from one to the other, trying to keep them both off the ground at the same time.

The building looked like some kind of cottage, low to the ground with a rotting thatch roof and the windows boarded shut. Damien made his way towards the door.

There was a cry from behind him, and when he turned round Lavender was gone.


	12. As Darkness Closes In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for an intermission. We will return to our regularly scheduled Baudelaires next chapter.

Damien spun round in a swift circle, trying to work out whether there was a hiding spot Lavender could possibly have dove into in the short amount of time.

“Lav?”

There was nothing he could see. The brush wasn’t tall enough for someone Lavender’s side to fully hide in it, and her pink dress would have given her away anyway.

“Lav, this isn’t funny! Where are you?”

“Syonha!” shrieked Phoebe.

Damien took a few steps back towards where Lavender had been behind him.

“Damien!” came a shout. It sounded like it was coming from very far off, echoing strangely.

“Lav?” He still couldn’t see her, and she couldn’t possibly have got so far away from him without him noticing. “Where are you?”

“I fell through the ground! There’s water down here!”

Damien frowned. “What do you mean you fell through the ground?”

“I mean- urf- there’s a hole or something, and there’s water down here!”

“Hang on.” Damien knelt down, still holding tight to Phoebe for fear she might wander off and ‘fall through the ground’ too. After a moment of crawling on his hands and knees, he found the remains of several planks, which had a large, gaping hole in the middle. “Alright, I think I’ve found it. Hold up, I need to move these plants.”

“Gods, this water is so nice.”

Damien set Phoebe down next to him. “Stay there Phoebs. Don’t move, okay?”

“Dee!”

He hooked his fingers around the planks, pulling them up. They lifted with a little resistence and rotten creaks, breaking apart in his hands. No wonder they hadn’t been able to hold Lavender. He peered down the remaining black pit. “I can’t see you!”

“I can see the light!”

Damien wet his lips. “You know, I bet this is an old well or something!”

“Yeah, I guessed that!”

He sighed, rocking back on his heels. “Is there any way to climb out? Like a ladder inside or anything?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just stone.”

Damien glanced about himself. _There’s always something,_ as Indigo liked to say.

He could see nothing.

“Alright. Just- stay calm, okay? I’m gonna go check out the cottage, see if there’s anything in there we can use for rope.”

“I take it back!”

“Take what back?”

“This is the worst day of our lives, period!”

There was a clank from nearby. Damien nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning round to where Phoebe was proudly lifting a length of chain from the scrubbery around them.

“Soh!” she announced happily.

“Oh, well done Phoebs!” He took the chain, lifting it from the scrub and beginning to wind it up. There was maybe thirty foot of it. Damien hoped it would be enough to reach Lavender at the bottom of the well. “Don’t suppose you see the bucket around here anywhere as well?”

“My,” she replied sadly.

“Never mind. Lav, Phoebe’s found a chain! I’m gonna find something to anchor it on and pass it down to you!”

“Gotcha!”

Damien glanced around them. Most of the land was hot sand or brush scrubbery, but there were a few hopeful trees reaching for the sun, one of which was only a few feet from the old well.

“Make sure you stay away from that hole. Don’t want you falling in too,” he warned Phoebe, dragging the chain over to the tree. He looped it around the trunk and secured it with that knot Violet liked so much before dragging the end over to the hole. “Lav! I’m going to lower the chain down; watch your head!”

“Right!”

Damien fed the chain slowly into the pit, lowering it down. “Tell me when you can see it!”

Down in the well, Lavender was doing just that, waiting eagerly for some glimpse of the chain Damien said he was throwing down. Being wet was heaven after the hot sun, but she wasn’t sure how deep this water was, nor how long she could keep swimming, and it was cold and dark down there. At last she caught a glimse above her, swinging rusted silver in the blackness.

“I think I see it!”

“How far is it?”

“A few more feet!”

The chain dropped down until it was hanging just above her head. She reached up to grab it. Her hands felt numb from the water and the cold. “A little further!”

Damien dropped it down another foot, and finally it was swinging right beside her. She wrapped her fingers around it. “Alright, I’ve got it! I’ll climb up!”

“We’ll hold it steady at the top!”

Lavender had always been an athletic girl, but her sport was dancing, not climbing. Soon enough her arms were aching and her legs burning, and it felt like she was only a foot above where she had started from. The entrance, where she’d fallen in, looked so very far away, and she was ice cold. _But no one was coming for them,_ she reminded herself. There was only them now. Not even Vi, with her clever inventions, or Indigo, who always knew what to do, or the triplets with their books, or Finn with his music. _No one was coming._ She dragged herself up further, bracing her legs against the old stone. It was dry, she realised, but she would make it slippery, which meant this first try really was her best one.

Slowly but surely she climbed her way up the chain. It felt endless, but she could see the light above her brightening, and at last Damien’s worried face came into sight.

“Never thought I’d be this glad to see you,” she gasped.

“Hold on, we’ll pull you up the rest of the way.”

There was a jerk, and the chain lurched upwards. It was, slow, painful going as Damien, with Phoebe’s assistance, pulled Lavender up the remaining fifteen foot of the well. She collapsed on the dry ground, her soaked clothing wetting the dry sand for what they supposed was the first time in months.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Damien asked, hovering over her anxiously.

“Supidi?” asked Phoebe.

Lavender waved a hand. “I’m fine; just wet and tired, and my arms ache.”

She was going to hurt in the morning, but that was hardly a change.

“Do you think you can walk?”

“Give me two minutes would you?”

Damien gave her five, and then helped her to her feet, picked up Phoebe, and half led, half carried his sisters to the cottage. The door was locked, but the hinges were rusted and rotten, and a few good kicks thoroughly defeated them. The three siblings stumbled inside.

The cottage, they found, was still furnished, though much of it was rusting or rotten. After a half moment of pause, Lavender stripped her wet clothes to her underwear and laid it outside in the sun to dry. Damien did his best not to look at her as he explored the cottage.

There was no telephone, he found with some disappointment, though he did find a broken typewriter, some rotting shoes, several dead mice, some jars of what might have once been pickles, an odd cylinder that looked like a spyglass which he gave to Phoebe to chew, and several large metal pots in the kitchen.

“If we tie one of these to the chain,” he said thoughtfully, “we should be able to pull up water from the well.”

“Good idea,” agreed Lavender. She had drunk straight from the well while she was down there – which, in retrospect, might have been a bad idea – but her siblings were still dangerously thirsty. She and Damien dragged out the largest of the pots with handles and, after some deliberation and tearing up the hems of Damien’s trousers, they managed to fasten it securely to the chain.

The pot, they found, was a lot easier than Lavender to throw and pull down and up the well. They filled up all the pots from the kitchen and enjoyed the cool water, drinking straight from the pots or with the hands to cup it with. Once they were cooled and sated, they filled up the pots again and regathered, exhausted, in the cottage. Damien propped up the door in the doorway and he and Lavender dragged the sofa over to push it against the doorframe.

“Do you think they were telling the truth about the lions?” Lavender asked anxiously.

“I’d rather not find out.”

The three of them made sure the cottage was secured and that they had exit points before collapsing in the large main room of the cottage. The floor was coated with red sand and dust from the Hinterlands, but they didn’t care. Damien laid his coat over Lavender, and she curled up against him. Phoebe laid on his stomach. All three were hungry and could hear their stomachs grumbling, but they were bone tired more.

“What will we do now?” Lavender asked.

“We’ll work it out in the morning. Stay here and wait to see if any cars come maybe.”

“Damien, we haven’t seen a single car.”

“We’ll work something out.” He squeezed her tight. “We will.”


	13. Only By The Night

Violet, Indigo, Loki, and Kyra made a start on the long list of chores Count Olaf had left them, ably assisted by Dog, who ran off with the cleaning brushes and knocked over the mop bucket.

Meanwhile, Klaus, Elias, Sofia, and Finn read through their pilfered books, occasionally pausing to share and discuss notes.

Once all the chores were finished, Violet fetched bread and some bitter tasting apples from the kitchen for her siblings and they gathered in their bedroom, Indigo and Elias with their backs against the door in an attempt to jam it closed.

“We haven’t found anything,” Klaus bemoaned.

“And we’re running out of time,” Elias added.

“We’ll help you,” Indigo said, leaning over to look at Elias’s book. “Here, let me see.”

He pushed her away. “It’s fine. You should rest while you can.”

“Are you sure? Six pairs of eyes could be better than four.”

“We’ve got this,” Sofia said firmly.

Klaus, Elias, Sofia and Finn spent the night reading. When they were younger, they had built pillow forts in their bedrooms and curled up together to read using torches while their parents were away and the nanny was off doing something she probably shouldn’t.

There were no torches now, and no forts either. The four of them crowded around the window to read by the moonlight, occasionally whispering to one another. Finn eventually fell asleep leant against the wall.

“Oy, sleepyhead,” Elias protested, but Sofia stopped him.

“Let him sleep.”

Violet, Indigo and Loki were sleeping fitfully on the lumpy bed, Kyra was curled up with Dog on one of the curtains, and the twins had wriggled into the fabric of the other so well they couldn’t be seen.

The books were long, boring, and tedious, a word which here means long and boring, but at last they had found out all he needed to know.

Quietly, so as not to wake their siblings, the three slipped out of the bedroom.

“What do we do?” asked Klaus worriedly.

“Burn the place to the ground with Olaf inside it,” said Elias.

Sofia frowned. “We’re not doing that.”

“Fine.” Elias grabbed the book from Klaus and set off down the rickety stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“To confront that bastard!”

“Elias!”

Elias didn’t stop. Klaus turned back to Sofia. “Go to the phone and ring Mr. Poe.”

“Mr. Poe won’t help us,” Sofia replied bitterly.

“Then call- I don’t know! The police! The fire department! CPS! Someone!”

“Right. On it.”

The two hurried down the stairs after Elias and separated at the bottom, Klaus rushing after Elias and Sofia scurrying off to the phone in the hall.

Elias stomped into Count Olaf’s study, where he was drinking a cup of coffee, and slammed the very large, very heavy book down on his desk.

“Hello, orphan,” said Count Olaf. “You’re up early.”

Elias was wearing an armour of righteous anger and slammed a hand down on the book. “I’ve been up all night reading this book.”

Count Olaf looked at the book. “A book on Nuptial Law? Where did you get that, bookworm?”

“From a library. You do know what that is, right?”

Count Olaf took another mouthful of coffee. Klaus slipped into the room behind Elias and called for him. “Elias!”

“We learned many interesting things while reading it, and we know what you’re up to!”

“Is that so? And what is that, exactly, you little runt?”

“Elias!” Klaus hissed, seizing his brother’s sleeve. Elias pulled away.

‘The laws of marriage in this community are very simple. They are as follows: the presence of a judge, a statement of “I do” by both the bride and the groom, and the signing of an explanatory document in the bride’s own hand.’ ”

Elias stared at Count Olaf long and hard. “If Violet says ‘I do’ and signs a piece of paper, while Justice Strauss is in the room, then she is legally married. You’re not going to marry her figuratively, you’re going to marry her literally!”

Count Olaf frowned a little. “Literally? That’s outrageous!” He hesitated and frowned, rubbing his pointy chin with his long fingers. “Wait, literally?”

Klaus sighed. “You don’t know the difference between figuratively and literally, do you?”

“Ah—”

Elias glared. “It means this play won’t be an act; it will be real and legally binding.”

Count Olaf waved a hand. “Your sister isn’t old enough to get married.”

“She can get married if she has the permission of her legal guardian, acting in loco parentis. That’s you. You can’t fool us.”

“Why in the world would I want to actually marry your sister? It is true she is very pretty, but a man like myself can acquire any number of beautiful women.”

Elias turned through the book. “A legal husband has the right to control any money in the possession of his legal wife. You’re going to marry Violet to gain control of the Baudelaire fortune! Or at least, that’s what you planned to do. But when we show this information to the police, they will put a stop to this! They’re probably on their way right now!”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door and the Bald Man entered, holding Sofia off the ground by the collar of her dress. She was kicking furiously, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Found this one trying to use the telephone Boss.”

“Did you indeed? Well, why don’t we escort them back to the bedroom that I, Count Olaf, so graciously provided for them, and we’ll see what their orphan siblings have to say about this.”

This wasn’t happening at all the way Elias had pictured it.

He had thought that they would confront Count Olaf and he would tear his hair out in anger or storm from the room, and they would leave to speak with the police. But here they still were, being marched miserably back to the one tiny room.

Indigo and Loki were still dozing, but Violet was awake and had dressed for the day.

“Oh, there you are—” she started, and stopped when she saw Count Olaf and the Bald man behind them.

“What do you want?”

Indigo was already stirring, and jerked awake at Violet’s hiss, rolling from the bed. She hurried over to the cushion to check on the littlies.

“Why don’t you wake the rest of your orphan siblings, and then we’ll see.”

“Sunny? Noah?” Indigo called, lifting up the fabric of their cushion. The twins were nowhere to be seen.

“Oh dear oh dear.”

“Where are they?” Klaus asked, hurrying over to help her search.

“I don’t know. But they’re not the type to run off.”

“Where can they be?”

“Where can they be indeed?” said Count Olaf, and the children turned around to face him in the doorway. His eyes were shining and he was smiling very, very widely.

The White Faced Women, Damien and Lavender had recently discovered, had not been lying about the lions.

And now they had a, well, lion shaped problem prowling around the cottage.

“What do we do?” Lavender whispered.

“Stay quiet and hope they don’t realise we’re inside,” Damien whispered back.

“But surely they can smell us. Or have already heard us.”

“Do you have any better ideas? One single better idea?”

“Maybe we can scare them off or something.”

“With what?”

Lavender glanced around the small room. There was plenty of things in here they could work with. Most of the furniture was old and rotten, but some of it had a metal structure.

“We build something.”


	14. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

“It certainly is strange to find a child missing. And ones so small, and helpless,” said Count Olaf as he smiled at the gathered children.

“Where’s Sunny and Noah?” Indigo demanded.

“What have you done with them?” Elias shouted, tensing as though to rush at him. Klaus, remembering how that had already lost them three of their siblings, laid a hand on his shoulder.

“But then again, one sees strange things every day. In fact, if you orphans follow me out to the backyard, I think we will all see something rather unusual.”

“What have you done?” hissed Indigo, but Count Olaf only turned and went back down the steps. Without a word to her siblings, Violet stepped out to follow him. The remaining siblings exchanged looks and then followed their sister down the stairs and through the house to the backyard.

Once there, they looked about themselves. There was the metal pole Count Olaf insisted they tie Dog to at all times (a rule which they were currently blatently ignoring, as Dog stood at Loki’s side), the pile of logs Count Olaf had forced Damien and Elias to chop two weeks ago, and scraps of food and empty bottles, but nothing unusual.

“What are we meant to be looking at?” Elias snapped.

“So rude orphan. You’re just not looking in the right place. For children who read so much, you two are remarkably unintelligent.”

Sofia, who had said nothing so far, simply reached out and tapped Elias on the shoulder. He spun round to glare at her as she pointed upwards, towards the tower they were forbidden to enter.

Just visible hanging from its one, round window was something that looked like a birdcage, swaying in the wind. As the children looked at it more, they could see that it was a birdcage, and inside they could see the small and frightened figures of their youngest siblings.

“Oh no,” Klaus said shakily.

“You bastard!” screamed Elias, leaping forwards towards Count Olaf. Indigo caught him around the waist, barely managing to spin him aside.

“Elias no! He might hurt them!”

“They’re infants!” he shouted.

“They’ve done nothing to you!” added Sofia.

“Let them go!”

Count Olaf smiled that awful smile, looking up at the tower. “If you really want me to let them go, I will. But surely even stupid little brats like you might realise that if I let them go - or ask my associate to let them go – poor little Sunny and Noah might not survive the fall down to the ground. That’s a thirty-foot tower, which is a very long way for very little children to fall, even when they’re inside a cage. But if you insist-”

“No!” Finn shouted.

“Don’t!” Loki cried.

Violet looked up at the small forms of her youngest siblings, dangling from the top of the tower, beginning to make an evaluation of whether the tower truly was thirty feet or if it was taller or shorter. She needed, she decided, to buy time.

“They’re only babies. We’ll do anything, just don’t harm them.”

“Anything?” Count Olaf asked, staring right at Violet. If only Damien were here, she thought, he would never have allowed this to happen. She was useless without him, _useless_.

“Anything at all? Would you, for instance, consider marrying me during tomorrow night’s performance?”

Would that be enough time, Violet wondered. She would have to work very quickly.

“While you were busy reading books and making accusations,” Count Olaf said, “I had one of my quietest, sneakiest assistants skulk into your bedroom and steal your darling little babies away. They are perfectly safe, for now. But I consider them to be a stick behind a stubborn mule.”

“Our siblings are not sticks,” Loki protested. Dog growled slightly.

Count Olaf rolled his shiny, shiny eyes. “A stubborn mule does not move in the direction its owner wants it to. But it will move in the proper direction if there is a carrot in front of it, and a stick behind it. It will move toward the carrot, because it wants the reward of food, and away from the stick, because it does not want the punishment of pain. Likewise, you will do what I say, to avoid the punishment of the loss of your sister, and because you want the reward of surviving this experience. Now, Violet,” he said, while looking darkly at Indigo.

“I’m Violet.”

“Of course you are.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around Indigo and leering down at Violet. “Let me ask you again: will you marry me?”

Violet wet her lips and looked up at the twins, swaying in the birdcage.

“Come now. Would it be so terrible to be my bride, to live in my house for the rest of your life? You’re such a lovely girl, after the marriage I wouldn’t dispose of you like your disgusting siblings.”

“In that case, I’d sooner die with them,” Violet said harshly. If Damien was dead; if Lav and Phoebe were dead, she would never be able to live with herself. Not knowing, she had decided, was far worse than knowing, even if they were dead.

“If you truly insist on refusing my proposal,” he said, stroking one of Indigo’s braids, “it wouldn’t be so hard to arrange an accident for you. Lavender here might grow into your beautiful white dress in a year.”

Indigo turned a funny shade of white. Violet looked at her, and thought of their youngest siblings and how afraid they must be swinging in that tower, and knew what her answer had to be. It would have to be enough time, she decided. Damien wasn’t here and she needed to look after her younger siblings.

“If you let Sunny and Noah go, I will marry you.”

“I will let the disgusting little biting brats go after tomorrow night’s performance. In the meantime, they will remain in the tower for safekeeping. And, as a warning, I will tell you that my assistants will stand guard at the door to the tower staircase, in case you were getting any ideas.”

“You’re a terrible man,” Finn whispered miserably.

Count Olaf smiled. “I may be a terrible man,” he said, and shoved Indigo back towards Violet. She caught her, pulling her against her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“But I have been able to concoct a foolproof way of getting your fortune, which is more than you’ve been able to do," Count Olaf continued. "Remember that, orphans. You may have read more books than I have, but it didn’t help you gain the upper hand in this situation. Now, I do believe you still have chores to do.”

With that, he strode away towards the house.

“Violet?” Loki ventured nervously.

Finn shifted from foot to foot, staring at his youngest siblings in the birdcage. “What do we do?”

“We get to work,” she replied.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Hinterlands, Damien, Lavender, and Phoebe had broken apart the furniture (quietly) and begun to plan what they were going to do to fight against a pack of very hungry lions.

“Maybe we can turn these chair legs into spears, and make a dugout,” suggested Lavender.

“But that would mean first going out there with the hungry lions.”

“Point taken.”

“We need a long distance weapon. Like a catapult.”

“We’d have to open the door or a window for a catapult.”

“Pukwanpefi!” suggested Phoebe.

“We don’t have the materials for a flamethrower.”

“What about something like a bow? Or a slingshot?”

Damien glanced around the room and ran his hands through his hair. “This really is Vi’s department.”

“We’ve got plenty to work with. There must be something.”

Lavender picked up one of the chair legs, swinging it around like a club. “I didn’t fall down a well to be eaten by a pack of lions.”

“Pride.”

“What?”

“A group of lions is called a pride, not a pack.”

“I don’t care what a group of lions is called; I care about not getting eaten by one!”

Damien glanced again round the room and then picked up a V shaped piece of metal that had once been part of a chair. “Maybe a slingshot wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Back in the bedroom, Violet gathered up what she needed, stuffing anything she might be able to use as a tool into her pockets and scooping up the remainder.

“You can use the bathroom. I think that lock still works, and if it doesn’t I’ll fix it for you while you work. Klaus, you guys get to work on the chores, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“But we want to help!”

“You did your part last night,” Violet said. “Now let me do mine.”

“This is my job to do.”

Indigo held the door open for her. Violet hesitated. “Wait a moment. Grab that curtain as well.”

Indigo nodded and scooped it up before following her sister out. The two of them hurried through to their bathroom, where they found the lock did in fact work.

“Great,” Violet said, turning on the damaged light and setting her supplies down on the floor.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Indigo asked, indicating the curtain.

“You’re going to case the joint.”

“You want me to check out the tower?”

“Yup. Take that up to Sunny and Noah and get a look at what’s inside that tower.”

“Can do.”

Indigo headed to the tower and found the henchperson of indeterminable gender stood there on guard.

“Excuse me?” she asked politely.

“Yes?” they drawled.

“May I take these up to my siblings, to make them more comfortable?”

They shook their head. “No.”

“It’s only blankets. It’s so cold, and it’s only going to get colder during the night. They’re going to freeze up there!”

“You’re not allowed to enter the tower.”

“Well, can you take them to them?”

“Afraid not.”

Indigo sighed. “Well, thanks for nothing.”

Hopefully Violet was doing better, she thought as she walked away.

The three children spent the next two hours working on what turned out as some abomination hybrid of a slingshot, catapult, and bow. Damien fixed the V to a wooden handle and tore fabric from his shirt to use as the string; Lavender divided up the furniture shrapnel into what they could and couldn’t use as projectiles, and Phoebe spied on the pride of lions through the windows.

At last they had something resembling a weapon. Phoebe decided on the best window for them to use and Lavender cracked it open while Damien pulled back the string and slotted a former chair leg into place. The lions were still prowling, less than ten foot from the house now.

Damien picked one of them, the largest, and fixed it in place. “We must never tell Loki about this.”

Lavender managed a smile.

The projectile went wide by far, rattling across the ground. The lions snarled and jumped in various directions, with one of them springing on the projectile.

Damien slotted another projectile into place. Now having some idea of how it felt, he got closer to hitting the lion he chose this time. It fled to a safe distance away from the house and stood there glaring at it.

Damien slotted a third projectile into place and took aim. Lavender fidgeted beside him.

The projectile hit one of the lions in the leg. It made an awful screaming sound and took off across the dead ground, most of the other lions behind it. Damien grabbed another projectile as the last of them darted past the front of the building and this time pierced it clean through the neck.

It kind of staggered about for a little bit and then collapsed, blood pooling around it.

“What did you do that for?” Lavender exclaimed.

“Za!”

“Look; they’ve all gone after that one!”

“I know. Come on; help me drag it in here.”

“What for?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Um, Violet?” Indigo asked, as she helped her sister gather up the materials. While her sister had worked on her invention, she had made a long rope from the ugly, itchy clothes that Mrs. Poe had bought them and wound it up into a tight coil.

“Hm?”

“Are you really sure this is a good idea?”

Violet tugged on the straps secured across her shoulders. “It should work now. I’ll go up and get the twins, lower them down to you, and then we’ll find someone who’ll help us.”

Indigo eyed the contraption strapped to her sister’s back. “If you’re sure.”

Violet smiled. “I’m sure.”

They stepped out of the bathroom and found Finn stood at the hall window, looking up at the tower.

“Sunny and Noah must be so frightened,” he said.

Indigo patted his shoulder awkwardly. “We’re all frightened Finn. Go and get some sleep; we’ll come and get you.”

“What are you going to do?”

Violet gave him a grim smile. “We’re going to jailbreak the twins.”


	15. A Promise Unbroken

Despite her faint protests – _I’m going vegan once we get back to the city_ – Lavender helped Damien drag the dead lion into the cabin and the three children hacked off a leg using sharp impliments that had once been parts of the furniture. It was hard work, and once they had done that they had to skin it, but at last they had something resembling meat.

“Now what?” asked Lavender.

“Now we need fire, so we can cook it.”

“How are we going to start a fire?”

“I saw a wood pile out back. Come on; come help me.”

Lavender followed him out and the two of them dragged most of the wood inside, wary that the rest of the lions might return at any time, and probably be less than happy at them having killed one of their pride. Damien set about banging two stones together to try and find a spark, while Lavender turned to Phoebe.

“Phoebs, where’s that cylinder thing Damien gave you yesterday?”

“Dada!” Phoebe announced, pulling the cylinder from somewhere inside her onesie.

Lavender grinned. “Thanks Phoebe. Here, what about this?”

Damien frowned. “What about it?”

“It’s got a lense in, like half of binoculours or something. If we angle it right, we can probably use it to start a fire. Phoebe, can you open those shutters?”

“Cha!” shouted Phoebe, reaching up to tug open the shutters by the door. A shaft of sunlight shone in.

“Oh, good plan Lavender!”

Lavender slid the cylinder into the sunbeam, angling it towards the fireplace. It took five minutes before the wood began to smoke slightly, but finally a small flame formed. Lavender adjusted the target of the lense so that it hit another section of the wood.

Slowly but steadily the wood caught light, and soon a small fire burned in the fireplace. Damien hacked the meat into smaller sections and fetched a battered old saucepan from the kitchen, tossing the meat into it and holding it over the now crackling fire.

He and Lavender took it in turns holding the pan there until the meat blackened, and then drew it out and set it on the floor.

“Careful Phoebs. Don’t touch it.”

“Hot!”

“Yes, it will be. Here.” Lavender plucked a piece of meat from the pan.

“Hang on. Maybe we should try it before giving it to Phoebs.” Damien grabbed a piece of his own, biting into it. He coughed slightly, chewing before swallowing.

“How is it?”

“Kind of like burnt pork? I think it’s okay.”

Lavender nodded and passed the chunk of meat she still held to Phoebe, who chewed on it happily. Lavender took a piece of her own, tentatively biting into it. It wasn’t the best tasting meal she’d ever had, but she was hungry enough to eat it and swallow it in chunks.

“So what are we gonna do now?”

Damien glanced around the room. “First we finish this meat. Then we need to fetch some more water from the well. Hopefully the lions will be busy or satisfied by the injured one. Then we should cook the rest of this meat. And tomorrow, we’re going on a hike to find civilisation.”

Outside, Violet and Indigo realised again how difficult their taskwas going to be. The night was quiet, so they wouldn’t be able to make much noise at all. And it was dark, so it was hard to see where Violet was going to be aiming for.

“Are you sure about this?” Indigo asked again.

“I have to do this. I’m the eldest siblings; it’s my job to look after you guys.” Violet reached up to her shoulder, pulling the lever there.

The large, metal wings extended out from the metal backpack fixed to her back, narrowly missing Indigo.

“Don’t stand so close.”

“Sorry.”

Violet looked up at the tower. She couldn’t see the birdcage, but she could imagine it, swaying slowly above her.

It was now or never.

She pulled the lever by her lip.

For a moment Indigo was sure something had gone wrong, as nothing happened.

And then a moment later Violet was gone as she hurtled straight up. Indigo stuffed the knuckles of her right hand in her mouth to stop herself screaming as her sister vanished into the darkness. She was left on the ground, only able to watch and hope Violet managed to steer.

Violet squeaked a little as she flew upwards, far faster than she was comfortable with. She shifted the wings, attempting to steer like she had intended, but only succeeded in positioning herself closer to the tower, close enough that she could reach out and drag her fingers up the filthy stone. She tried to grab the birdcage as she approached it and the twins trapped inside cried out in surprise as she whooshed past. At last she managed to grab the edge of the rotting guttering at the top of the tower with one hand and reach down to deactivate the wings with the other. She hit the roof with a heavy thud and an oof.

That had not at all gone like she had planned it.

Holding tight to the cracked tiles, she peered over the edge. She couldn’t see Indigo any more, swallowed up by the darkness below, but she could see the birdcage. Up close she could see the younger twins were wrapped in rope and had a piece of tape sticking their heads back to back. She could only imagine how frightened they were, having been up here all day and now swaying here in the breeze.

Violet glanced over her shoulder and then lay down on her stomach and reached down to the birdcage, hoping to try to pull it up towards her. Her fingers just barely brushed the bars. Sunny squeaked and tried to look up at her, forcing Noah’s head down as she did.

“Sunny!” Violet hissed, creeping as far forwards as she dared. “It’s me!”

Her sister wriggled in the ropes, while Noah began to sniffle at being forced into a probably extremely uncomfortable position.

“Sunny, stop moving! You’re hurting Noah!” Violet scuttled backwards to think about her situation. Either she had to go down to the birdcage, or the birdcage had to come closer to her. She reached for the rope she and Indigo had made and threaded it thoughtfully through her hands. After thinking about it for a moment, she dangled it down towards the birdcage, threading it through the bars.

“Sunny! Noah! Hold onto it!” she whispered. Her littlest siblings grasped at the rope as it dangled between them. Slowly, Violet began to pull them up towards her, shuffling backwards to lie back down.

There was a clatter, and the cage stopped moving.

She frowned, giving another tug, and felt the rope slip as one of the twins lost their grip on it. Violet crawled forwards to peer over the edge, and her heart fell all the way to her stomach as she saw what the cage had stuck on.

It was a hook, attached to the arm of the Hook-Handed man, and the other hook shone in the moonlight as he reached for her.

There was one of the lions still prowling around the cottage, but Lavender soon scared it off with a burning chair leg while Damien hauled water from the well.

“How are we going to keep them at bay tomorrow?”

“We’ll take the slingshot with us, and make some spears. We never saw them up by the road anyway; maybe they stay away from it.”

“Maybe,” Lavender mused doubtfully.

“I think the city should be south of here; I was keeping track when they drove us out. We all know the sun rises in the East, so we can use that to navigate.” He emptied the pot into the larger one they had dragged from the cottage and then flung it back down the well. Lavender gazed towards the slowly setting sun.

“Mother and father always said they would take us to see a Hinterlands Sunset one day.”

“I don’t think this is what they meant.”

Lavender sighed heavily. “He sent us out here to die, didn’t he?”

“Probably.” Damien began to haul the pot back up. “Once we get back to the city, we’ll get the others out of there and find somewhere safe.”

“I hope so,” Lavender whispered, shifting her grip on the burning torch as the sun dropped beneath the horizon. “I hope so.”


	16. You Make Me Brave

Damien and Lavender dragged the large pot of water back to the cabin and set it inside, closing the door, locking it, and jamming a piece of wood under the handle to make it harder to enter. They cut another leg from the lion and cooked it before dumping the carcass outside, some distance from the cottage.

“Will the meat keep?”

“Hopefully it’ll keep until the morning and we can have some breakfast. We’ll have to take the water with us somehow though.”

“We can each carry a pot,” Lavender said. “But you’ll have to walk Phoebs.”

“Cando!” Phoebe said.

Damien jammed a piece of wood under the handle to the backdoor and circled the cottage, making sure the shutters were secured. “Let’s get some sleep then, and we’ll get going in the morning.”

“How very nice of you to join us,” the hook-handed man said. “I was just thinking how much I wanted to see your pretty face. Have a seat.”

Violet could only stare at him. That had not gone how she wanted it to.

“I said have a seat!” the hook-handed man snapped, and shoved her into a chair. Violet looked miserably around the tower room and sighed. She had wanted to rescue Sunny and Noah, and now she was as trapped as they were. The Hook-Handed man pulled out a walkie-talkie and jabbed a button with one of his hooks.

“Boss, it’s me,” he said. There was a pause, and he looked confused at the walkie. “Me? You know, your henchperson? Hooks for Hands? Yes. Listen, your blushing bride just climbed up here to try and rescue the biting brats.”

Count Olaf said something on the other end.

“I don’t know. With some sort of backpack airplane drone thing. I don’t know, boss. Yes, boss. Yes, boss, of course I understand she’s yours. Yes, boss.” He turned to Violet. “Count Olaf is very displeased with his bride.”

At the bottom of the tower, Indigo knew something must have gone wrong when the rope made from the ugly clothes fell to the ground in a heap at her feet. She picked it up, running it through her hands and looking up at the tower.

Violet was in trouble, and the birdcage with the little twins in it was still swaying in the breeze.

She looked about herself. The backyard was filled with all sorts of rubbish, mostly old beer bottles and broken furniture, but there was a myriad of other things.

“What would Violet do,” she whispered, rolling the rope into a coil. “What would Violet do; what would Violet do?”

Violet was smarter than her; that was why Violet was the inventor and she could only fix things, but she had plenty to work with here.

“There’s always something,” she muttered.

At the foot of the tower, an old umbrella was stuffed in with the rest of the rubbish. Indigo tugged it free and opened it, looking up above her to measure the distance. It was a painfully long way up. Quickly, she tied the handle of the umbrella to the rope, creating a hook on the end.

“Okay,” she said, swinging it experimentally. “I hear you Violet. Hang tight.”

Klaus was woken by being dragged to his feet. Elias yelled, struggling as he was yanked to his feet. “Gerrof me! Gerrof!”

The Bald Man, who was holding him, cuffed him around the back of the head, shook him, and reached for Sofia, who was curled up on the bed with Loki and Finn.

“Leave that one,” said one of the White Faced Women from the doorway. “The boss wants to keep her.”

“What for?”

“Sticks and contingencies apparently.”

Sofia shuddered, rolling to her feet and rushing to try and grab Kyra before the other White Faced woman could. She was too slow, and the woman yanked her from her cushion and pulled her across the room to the others. When she began to wail she stuffed a rag in her mouth, and Kyra tasted smoke.

“Where are you taking them?” Sofia demanded, frantically trying to get to Kyra and being shoved back time and time again.

“Count Olaf has decided they deserve a treat before the big performance,” replied the White Faced Woman in the doorway. “Not you though; you’re to stay with your sister. Nasty little brat.”

“Let’s get going, let’s get going,” chanted the other.

The Bald Man laughed. “We’re going to have such a fun trip.”

“Is this all of them?” asked one of the Women.

“I don’t know; there’s too many of them.”

The two women cackled, and the Bald Man pushed the gathered siblings towards the door. One of the Women held Sofia’s arm in a tight grip, keeping her away from her siblings.

“No! Don’t take them!”

“Shut your mouth!”

“Let go of me!”

“Sofia!”

“Klaus! Elias!”

“Where are you taking us?”

“You’ll see.”

Quickly, the children were pushed down the stairs and to the filthy entrance hall, where Count Olaf met them.

“Ah, orphans.”

“Where are you sending us?” Klaus demanded.

Count Olaf smiled very, very widely. “Out for a trip! Isn’t that what good fathers do for their children? Send them on exciting trips?”

“You’re not our dad!” Loki snapped.

“Now now Finn.”

“Loki.”

“I’m going to be the ultimate dad to you orphans. Now, you boys enjoy your trip. Lavender, you are going to stay here.” He reached out and took Sofia’s arm with his long, bony fingers.

“Don’t touch her!” Elias shouted, trying to throw himself at the Count.

Count Olaf only gave him a cheery wave. “Toodle oo now.”

The three henchpeople forced the siblings towards the door, and Klaus could only look back over his shoulder as Sofia was led away.

The two Women and the Bald Man forced the remaining five children out the door and into Count Olaf’s large, ugly, brown automobile.

“Where are you taking us?” Finn asked bitterly.

“You’ll find out.”

It was quiet, which made Indigo’s task very difficult, but she knew that Violet and her youngest siblings needed her held. Swinging the umbrella back, she threw it as high and as hard as she could.

_Clang!_

The umbrella clattered as it hit the tower and bounced back to the ground. Indigo froze, waiting to see if anyone would come to investigate. No one did, so she swung the umbrella over her head like a lasso and tried again.

_Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!_ Five times the umbrella fell back to the ground. On the fifth it bounced from the tower and hit Indigo in the shoulder. One of the spokes tore through her nightgown and ripped a long gash down her shoulder. She bit her lip to stop her cry and felt at her shoulder, finding warm blood. Drawing in a deep breath, she looked up at the tower and imagined how scared the little twins and Violet must be. Much more scared than her, she thought, and drew back to throw the umbrella again.

The expected _clang!_ never came. Indigo held her breath, but the umbrella never fell back to the ground. She gave the rope an experimental tug, and it stayed firm. She pulled harder, climbing onto it a little, but it held firm. The grappling hook had worked!

Now she just had to get up there to Violet and the twins.


	17. There’s No Such Thing As Coincidences

Violet had seen the umbrella swing up past the window, glinting in the moonlight, several times, but was too afraid to try and do anything for fear the Hook-Handed man might see. On the last time, however, instead of falling short yet another time, it came straight in through the window, lodging firmly under the sill. She shuffled sideways, careful not to drag the chair across the floor, to try and hide it.

The sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs, and soon Count Olaf opened a trapdoor and thrust a very confused and angry Sofia into the room.

“Here we are.” He gave Violet a scathing look. She stood to try and hide the grappling hook. Sofia rushed to her side.

Count Olaf shook his head as though disappointed. “ You know, some people say that the hardest job in the world is raising a child.” He looked them over and gave an overly exaggerated sigh. “But that is nothing compared to conceiving, writing, directing, producing, graciously casting an orphan in and performing in a theatrical show for the purposes of stealing said orphan’s dead parents' fortune. It's a very difficult job.”

“Your life is a tragedy,” said Sofia flatly.

“Yes it is,” proclaimed Count Olaf. “At least _someone_ understands that. Hopefully they also understand that I will not have any orphans mucking up my schemes!”

“You'll never touch our fortune.”

“Lavender, Lavender, Lavender.”

“Sofia.”

“You are? Where’s Lavender then?”

“You sent her away,” Violet said bitterly.

“Ah yes! Very forward thinking of me. Where was I? Ah yes, Sofia. Sofia, Sofia. I'll touch whatever I want.” He laid his hand on Violet’s shoulder and squeezed it very tight. “Now, the three of you will be locked in this room until night falls. That way, you’re staying out of mischief, and this evening you will be married to me.” He ushered the Hook-Handed man out and slammed the trapdoor closed behind him.

Above her, Indigo could hear her sisters speaking, but she didn’t dare look around. Slowly, she pulled herself up the tower, breathing deep. As she got higher, the breeze blew harder, and the rope moved and swayed in the wind. Indigo feared that at any moment the cloth of the ugly clothes would tear, or the umbrella would dislodge or slip, and she would fall all the way back to the foot of the tower.

“Why are we up here?” Sofia asked.

“My attempt to rescue Sunny and Noah,” Violet replied, turning and hurrying to the window. Sofia followed her.

“It’s so high up. You must have been terrified.”

“It was very scary,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the rope, “but not as scary as the thought of marrying Count Olaf.”

Sofia frowned as she looked at the other window of the tower, an oddly shaped round one with a sort of lens attached to wires. She wandered over to it and peered through, finding it to be some kind of magnifying glass. In the distance through it, she could see a fine looking cream mansion with large yellow doors. She frowned, tugging at it. It slid across the window, and she found with dawning horror that she could line it up over the burnt, ashy remains of their own home.

“Sofia! Get over here and help me hold this steady.”

“Why; what is it?”

“It’s a grappling hook, I think. Indigo must have thrown it up.”

Sofia smiled. “Well, I’m sorry your first invention didn’t work, but at least this one does.”

“It works fine,” Violet said defensively. “I just got caught.” She leant out the window. Maybe fifteen feet below she could see Indigo’s figure making her way slowly up the tower. “Hold tight! We’ll pull you up!”

Indigo gripped the rope very, very tightly, and Violet and Sofia pulled very, very hard on the rope, slowly dragging her up the tower. At last Indigo opened her eyes and saw the little twins, who were wriggling frantically in their ropes. She had arrived at the top of the tower, right at the window where her youngest siblings were tied. Violet and Sofia reached out and grabbed Indigo’s hands, pulling her in through the window. She fell onto the floor, trembling and gasping for air.

“Omigosh,” cried Sofia, “did you climb all the way up?”

“No Sofia; I flew some of it. Yes; of course I climbed.”

“Indigo, you’re hurt!” Violet exclaimed, tugging at her sister’s nightgown.

“Yeah, the hook fell on me. Come on, let’s get the twins, grab the others, and get out of here.”

“The others!” Sofia exclaimed. “Count Olaf sent them away in the automobile!”

“He did what?” shouted Violet, who was now grabbing frantically for the cage in which Sunny and Noah were sitting.

“He said they were going on a trip before the performance; he sent them all off with that terrible bald man! Here Indigo, let me see.” Quickly, she tore a sleeve from Indigo’s ripped nightgown to make a bandage for her shoulder.

“We’ll have to clean it up once we’re out of here, and treat it with antiseptic.”

Violet finally succeeded in grabbing the birdcage, dragging it in towards them. “The key; where’s the key?”

Sunny babbled something through the tape, wriggling in the ropes. Violet looked around the room, but she couldn’t see any sign of a key.

“I can just pick the lock,” Indigo said, pulling one her slides from her hair and scrambling over to the cage. Violet, meanwhile, reeled in more of the cloth rope and looked around the tower room.

“We need to secure this better. Sofia, help me.”

“What do you think he’s going to do to the boys?”

“Nothing good. Help me!”

The two girls gripped the rope tightly and looked about the tower room before deciding on the large metal bar Sunny and Noah’s cage had been hung from. They threw the rope over it and tied it firmly in place before throwing it back down to the foot of the tower.

Indigo, meanwhile, had managed to get the cage open and lifted the twins out, pulling them out of the ropes. They were now crying, both from fear and relief.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

Violet gave a good pull on the rope. “That should hold, but we’ll go down one by one just in case. Sofia, you take Noah. I’ll take Sunny.”

“I can—” Indigo started.

“No, Indigo, you’re injured. You shouldn’t put any more strain on your arm.”

Indigo lifted her hand to her shoulder and fingered the injury there. Sofia moved to pick up Noah, while Violet scooped up Sunny and carefully fastened her to her front.

“It’s okay Sunny. We’re going to get out of here.”

The Bald Man drove and drove, while the five Baudelaire siblings sat in the backseat. They had tried pulling on the doorhandles and banging on the windows, but the doors were locked and there weren’t many people around at this time of night.

“What are we going to do?” Klaus whispered to Elias.

“We could kill this bastard,” Elias replied hopefully.

“We’re not doing that,” said Finn.

“There’s more of us than there is of him,” said Loki, which was true. There was almost always more Baudelaires than there were the people they were opposing.

“Woof!” said Dog.

“Excuse me?” ventured Klaus. “Where are we going?”

“The Boss-man wants me to take you on a very important trip.”

“To _where_?” pushed Elias.

“You’ll see.”

“Can we stop for a toilet break?” Finn asked. “I really need to go.”

“Hold it.”

“I’m really desperate,” Finn said, nudging Klaus with his knee.

“Yeah, me too!”

“Yeah, you dragged us all out the car without giving us any time!”

“Yeah!” shouted Kyra, kicking the back of the driver’s car.

“Woof!” shouted Dog.

The Bald Man leant over and rummaged in the footwell of the passenger seat, producing an empty beer bottle, which he passed wordlessly back to them. Elias held it for ten seconds, giving it a look of pure disgust and hatred, and then dropped it.

Finn sighed.

So much for that idea.

Violet climbed down first, Sunny secured to her front. It was less stable than her wings, she thought bitterly, but the Hook-Handed man, after being unable to get them off her, had gone for the next best thing and ripped out a chunk of the wiring and gears. She had gathered them up and stuffed them into her pockets, planning on making the repairs later.

Sofia was next, Noah strapped to her chest and clutching her nightgown. She climbed down a little slower and steadier than her sister, her hands trembling and her arms aching. Violet hovered at the bottom, as though she might be able to catch her if she fell.

Indigo was last, shimmying down the rope. Going down, she found, was easier than going up. Violet continued to linger at the bottom of the tower, whispering encouragement and hoping she would be able to do something if her sister’s injured shoulder were to cause her to fall, but at last she was back on solid ground. Violet gave her a quick hug before taking her hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”


	18. Chase the Night (flee the light)

The three sisters hurried to the small, rotten, side gate that led in and out of Count Olaf’s filthy backyard. Violet shook it a little, forcing the rusted bolts holding it shut back and herding her sisters out. They ran down the drive and sprinted for the end of the street, where they were met by a frantic and unhappy looking Dog.

“What now?” Sofia asked.

“We get to a police station so we can find the boys,” Violet replied.

“What about Justice Strauss?” suggested Indigo.

Sofia scowled. “Justice Strauss won’t help us.”

Violet bit her lip.” Sofia’s right. We can’t rely on Justice Struass; she’s enamoured with Count Olaf. We need to get to the police, or the authorities, or something. Then we can get the boys.”

“What if-” Sofia choked on the words, shifting Noah against her as she ran.

“The boys are clever,” Violet said. “They’ll be alright.”

They had been driving for several hours when the Bald Man hit the brakes so hard Finn jerked forwards and slammed into the front passenger seat. He blinked, rubbing his head, dazed.

“Hey! What gives?” Elias snapped.

Loki peered past Kyra out the window. “I don’t think we can park here.”

“The Boss gave me money for treats.” The Bald Man opened his door and stepped out. Leaning further over Kyra, Loki yanked on the handle to her door and she tumbled out, landing in a heap on the train tracks the car was currently sitting over. The Bald Man apparently failed to notice and slammed the door shut again, clicking the button on the key. “Wait here.”

Loki banged on the window. “Hey!”

“Let us out!” Elias shouted.

Klaus put his arm round Finn. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. My head hurts a bit though.”

Loki banged harder on the window. “Kyra! Open the door!”

“Kyra?” Klaus asked dumbly. “Why’s she outside?”

“She fell out when I opened the door.”

“That’s great!” Elias leant over him, looking down at their younger sister. “Kyra! Go to the shop and get help!”

“No, wait! The Bald Man will be in there!”

“Oh, right. Kyra, get a rock and break one of the windows!”

There was an odd rumbling that seemed to shake the ground and shudder their very bones. Loki peered into the distance. “Elias, what’s that?”

Far down in the distance, a faint black cloud could be seen, rising up into the morning sky. All four boys stopped to look out the window.

“That would be the reason we can’t park here,” said Klaus.

Meanwhile, somewhere out in the very vast, very barren Hinterlands, Damien, Lavender and Phoebe had just woken up and were taking turns taking long drinks of the cool water. Once they were sated, Damien nibbled on the meat they had cooked the night before. “I think it’s still done.”

Lavender narrowed her eyes. “You better be sure.”

“Cha!” shouted Phoebe. Lavender passed her a piece of meat.

The three of them quickly finished the food, half wary of leaving it any longer. Lavender ran an anxious hand through her dark hair and opened the shutters of the window to gaze out at the desert outside. “I hope the others are alright.”

“Violet’s smart. She can take care of them,” Damien replied.

“Ka!” shrieked Phoebe, which could have meant many things, but in this situation probably meant _‘and Sunny and Noah will bite Count Olaf and all his henchpeople!’_

“Ka indeed Phoebe. Let’s get us some more water and make an early start. It won’t be so hot while it’s early.”

Violet, who was carrying Sunny, Indigo, and Sofia, who was carrying Noah, ran until they couldn’t run anymore, and then forced themselves to run further. They ran until dawn broke, making their way deep into the city. Dog ran at their heels, panting. He didn’t even stop when they ran through the meat district, where the butchers had started to bring in deliveries of meat, or the flower district, where there were many sweet smelling flowers, of the sculpture district, where enormous looking statues loomed over them. Even though there were shopowners starting to open their places of business, none of them stopped to look twice at the three girls, two infants, and one dog who were running like Hell was on their heels and still wearing their nightgowns.

“Maybe one of these people will help us,” gasped Indigo, whose legs were aching from the run and burning from the long climb up the tower and then back down again, and whose shoulder was beginning to bleed again.

“No one will help us,” Sofia replied sulkily.

They entered the publishing district and Violet stopped at a shop on the corner, the only one that appeared to be open. It was old fashioned looking, with a wooden sign outside.

“Come on. Let’s see if there’s a phone we can use.”

Her sisters followed her inside. The shop was small, with shelves lining the walls and hundreds of books on display. Many of them looked old – some of them impossibly old, Sofia thought as she stopped to look at one of the displays.

“Can I help you there?” asked the man sat at the counter. He was kinda short, with white blonde hair and a grey jacket.

Violet jumped slightly. “Oh! We were just wondering – I mean, I was just wondering – do you have a phone we can use?”

“I’m afraid I do not.”

“Oh. Well, thank you anyway.”

“Have you seen an ugly brown car?” Sofia asked suddenly. “With four boys and a little girl in the back?”

“I’m afraid not. Have you lost them?”

“Not- lost. Just… temporarily separated from,” Indigo replied.

_Like Damien and Lav and Phoebs_ , Violet thought bitterly. “Come on. We need to get to the police station. Thank for your help sir.”

“You are quite welcome.”

The bell rang as Violet opened the door and guided her sisters out, stepping back into the street last. The three of them hurried to the end of the street.

“We’re not far from the authority district now. Then all we need to do is talk to the police.”

They kept moving, alternating between running and hurrying. Dog stayed close to Indigo, snapping at anyone who got too close to her. At last they turned right towards the authority district, which was marked by the large, red fire station at the end of the street.

For a moment their hearts lifted, and then a tall, tall figure came around the corner, flanked by four others.

“Oh no,” said Indigo in a very small voice.

“Hello hello hello orphans. A nice morning, isn’t it?”


	19. A Theory of only Surviving

“Go!” Klaus shouted, as if they could open the doors and jump out. He leapt forwards, rolling over the back of the front chairs and landing in the driver’s seat. Finn scrambled after him into the passenger side. Elias lunged over Loki and grabbed at the door handle, banging on the window.

“Kyra! Break the window! Find a rock! Break the window!”

The littlest elf on the back shelf of the car began to giggle obsessively, its bobble head rocking back and forth.

“Onit!” Kyra shouted, marching off to the side of the tracks.

Klaus flipped switches and jabbed at buttons as though it might somehow help. Elias rolled onto his back and began to kick the window on the other side. One of the buttons Klaus hit turned the tape recorder on and it began to play a merry song. Elias blinked. “Is that the Happy Little Elf theme tune?”

“I think so,” Klaus replied, dumbfounded.

“Turn it off!”

Finn lifted a book from the footwell of the passenger seat. “ _Inheritance Law and You: Municipal Statutes_.”

“How does he hope to steal our fortune by getting us hit by a train?” Elias snapped.

Klaus paused. “He doesn’t.”

“What do you mean ‘he doesn’t?’”

“He doesn’t need us. He only needs Violet, and Indigo and the little twins to threaten her with.”

“He doesn’t need the rest of us,” Finn finished.

“Can you use the book to smash the window?” Elias asked.

Even though there was a hot road beneath her feet, Lavender felt like they were walking into nothingness. For miles around them the sand stretched out. Damien had scratched a rudimentary compass in the ground to tell them which way to head down the road, and with any luck they would be able to continue that way. But it still felt like they were in the middle of nowhere, and she still feared they were going to die under the hot sun and their bones would one day be found in the red sand.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “We could be safe staying at the cottage and waiting for a car to pass by.”

Damien shook his head. “It’s not sustainable. There’s water, but there isn’t anything to eat. That lion meat wouldn’t have kept. We need to get back to civilisation.”

Lavender squeezed Phoebe’s little hand. The plan was for her to walk a third of the time, and for her and Damien to switch her off between them the rest of the time.

“Besides,” Damien said, and shuddered as though it were cold, even though it was burning hot, hotter than anything Lavender had ever felt.

“I have an awful feeling.”

“About what?”

He stared into the distance, frowning slightly against the sun. “Violet.”

Sofia was the first of the siblings to recover.

Without waiting for her sisters she turned on her heel and ran, nearly getting clipped by a car in the process. Violet and Indigo followed, Violet sliding awkwardly over the car’s bonnet and Indigo darting around it.

“Where are we going?” Indigo shouted.

“Separate!” Violet shouted back.

Sofia, who had a head start and was a little more athletic than her sisters, largely due to the endeavours Elias liked to drag her into, was already a good twenty feet in front of them and could barely hear what they were saying over the roar of her own heart beating. Noah began to whimper in her arms.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispered.

_It would_ , she told herself.

Violet had veered off first from her sisters, hoping that as she was the one Count Olaf wanted, they would come after her first and most. She only wished she had thought to pass Sunny to Indigo while forming that plan, because now it meant her youngest sister would be caught with her.

Indigo had lost sight of Sofia ahead of her, her blonde hair vanishing into the crowd in spite of her nightgown and the infant in her arms. She turned onto the next street she came across, which happened to lead into the furniture district, Dog close at her heels. The two of them wove in and out of the various furniture displays, to the sound of protests and impatient shouts from shopowners. Her legs were burning, aching, threatening to give out beneath her. Dog nipped at her hand and gave a slight ‘wuff!’

“Alright, alright, I’m going as fast as I—”

A tall figure in a greasy trenchcoat materialised in front of her. Indigo skidded to a halt. The silver hook gleamed as it reached towards her.

“Going somewhere?”

Violet was still running, Sunny safe in her arms. She was desperately looking for somewhere safe to leave her – _fuck_ , she had never even _imagined_ she would be searching for a place to _abandon her infant sister_ , but desperate times called for desperate measures – but so far she had seen nothing. She glanced over her shoulder. Count Olaf was still following, a tall figure at the other end of the street.

“You can’t run forever orphan!”

“Neither can you!” she shouted back.

These were the times, Sofia thought, that she wished their parents had brought them into the districts of the city a little more. They might have known their way better. As it was she was running blind, and rapidly running out of power, but the thought of Count Olaf and his shiny, shiny eyes kept her moving.

At last, Violet reached the clothing district and decided to do the craziest and most reckless thing she thought she had ever done. More than any of her inventions, more than anything she’d been talked into by Damien.

She stuffed Sunny into a clothing display.

“Stay here,” she told her sister. “I’ll lead him away from you. Wait until he’s caught me, and then wait an hour or so, and then go to the police station.”

“Sawyer,” Sunny agreed sagely. Violet kissed her head and took off up the street.

Sofia had been sure she was lost, but looking ahead she saw she was coming back up to the book district. Bookshops and libraries were always safe, she thought happily.

Violet kept running, trying to get as far as she could from the clothing district. From the few glances over her shoulder she had risked, Count Olaf was closer than ever – her stop had cost her – and, more importantly, was not carrying any infants.

At last she turned a corner and saw the two White Faced Women ahead of her. She attempted to cross the street and double round, but it was no use. Count Olaf smiled as he strolled along to catch up with them. “Don’t worry my dear. It’s perfectly normal to get the jitters before a big performance.”

Sofia flung the door of the bookshop on the corner open and threw herself inside. There was somewhat of a surprised noise from the shopkeeper as she leapt across the store and dashed around the bookshelves. There had to be something _– there was always something –_ she could use to hide.

There was a reading table nestled into a nook almost behind one of the bookshelves. It wasn’t an ideal hiding place, but it was the best there was. Sofia dove beneath it and crawled behind the chairs, clutching Noah to her chest. “Stay quiet,” she whispered, rocking on her heels.

The bell rung as the shop door opened. She squeezed her eyes closed.

They were going to die.

They were going to die.

They were going to die.

“Have you seen a tween girl come in here?” droned the voice of the henchperson of indeterminate gender. Sofia panted and rocked Noah against her.

“I… have not.”

“Do you mind if I have a look round? Small children often like to hide in fancy bookshops.”

“I really would rather you didn’t. I have a lot of expensive books in here you know-”

“Literature is a dying art of the oppressive upper class.”

Footsteps echoed around the store. Sofia curled herself into as tight a ball as she could, thankful that Noah was only small and all too aware that the chairs at the table were nowhere near solid enough to fully hide them. When she opened her eyes she saw the henchperson’s shoes and held her breath, holding as still as she could, and still she was sure they were looking right at her.

“There, you see? There is no one here, and certainly not a child. Didn’t you read the sign? No unaccompanied minors.”

Oh.

Whoops.

“Thank you for your time. You have a very interesting shop.”

“Go on; shoo!”

The bell tinged as the door opened again. Sofia heard it slam shut.

Sofia let out the breath she had been holding. Noah began to whine again, most likely in pain from the position.

“It’s alright; I believe you can come out now. They won’t be coming back.”

Sofia uncurled slightly and collapsed back against the wall. For a moment all she could do was shake, and then she burst into tears.


	20. Borrowed Time

Kyra had found a rock bigger than both her hands put together. She tottered back to the automobile with it and heaved it over her head with all her tiny might, throwing it at one of the windows. It clattered from the glass and bounced to the ground.

“Again Kyra!” Elias shouted. “Again!”

The car telephone began to ring, making them all jump. Klaus picked it up with a shaking hand, fearful it would be Count Olaf calling to gloat in their last moments.

“Count Olaf?” said a very familiar voice. “Hello? Poe, I’m calling you back about that inheritance question you raised.”

“Mr. Poe!”

“Yes!” shouted Loki. That had to be the first bit of good luck they had had in weeks.

“Who is this?” asked Mr. Poe, sounding very confused indeed.

“It’s Klaus Baudelaire; we’re in Count Olaf’s car!”

“Oh.” Mr. Poe did not sound very happy or impressed about that fact. “Well, where’s Count Olaf?”

“He’s not here right now, but-”

“You’re driving the car alone?”

“No!” Klaus snapped, trying to work out how to explain. “No; the car is on the train tracks and the train is coming.”

There was a deafeningly loud noise in the background of the call, like a screeching sort of whistle.

“I’m sorry Klaus, I can’t hear a thing! I’m driving next to a train!”

Finn leant over Klaus’s shoulder. “Drive faster!”

“What’s that now?”

“Drive faster! We’re going to be hit by a train!”

The noise in the background of the call was nearly drowning Mr. Poe out now, an unbearable sort of din.

“Klaus, I can’t hear because of the train!”

“No-”

“I’ll see you at the performance this afternoon! Goodbye!”

The call cut out.

The four boys sat in silence. Kyra threw the rock at the window again. It clattered off a fifth time.

“She’s not strong enough,” Loki said sadly.

“Klaus, you must have read about trains,” Finn said. “What do we do?”

Violet and Indigo had been manhandled to a taxi rank. Violet felt filthy with Count Olaf’s hand on her shoulder, and the hook of the Hook-Handed man was digging into Indigo’s wounded shoulder so much it was drawing blood through Sofia’s bandage.

“Where’s the third one, and those awful biting brats?” he asked the henchperson of indeterminable gender, who had returned alone.

“Couldn’t find her Boss.”

“Couldn’t- ugh. Never mind.” He leered a terrible smile at Violet, and then Indigo. “I’ve got all that I need.”

“Boss? What do you want me to do with the dog?” asked the Hook-Handed man.

Count Olaf glared at Dog, who was still following at Indigo’s heels and trying to bite the heels of the Hook-Handed man.

“Leave it. Filthy mutt.”

“He is not!” Indigo protested weakly, before noticing something she was more interested in. Count Olaf opened the door of one of the taxis.

The henchperson of indeterminable gender got in first, and then Count Olaf spread an arm for Violet and Indigo.

“In you get.”

Violet put her right hand out to steady herself as she climbed into the taxi. Damien would have been able to run further, she thought bitterly, but her overall plan had worked.

Then she looked at her right hand again as she sat down, and thought very, very hard.

Indigo climbed in at her side, and the Hook-Handed man on her other side, and the two Women after him. Violet and Indigo pressed very tight together as the door closed and Dog was left barking outside.

Indigo leant in to Violet’s shoulder. “Where’s Sunny?”

Violet shook her head, daring not to speak for fear one of them might hear her and circle round to pick up Sunny from where she had abandoned her.

Instead, she looked at her right hand and thought, harder than she had in her entire life.

Sunny, meanwhile, had sat in the clothing display for a very long time.

Violet never came back, and nor did Indigo or Sofia come to find her.

Sunny wasn’t sure what time it was, because she was a baby, but she was sure it had been ages and ages, so she crawled out from the display and looked about herself. She could see no landmarks she knew, in fact, she could see very little past the legs of those walking up and down the street.

But Violet, she remembered, had said she must get to the police, so she began to crawl towards the end of the street. Perhaps then she could see where she was and find a landmark to find someone or something that had helped. She remembered her trip to the banking district, but somehow she didn’t think Mr. Poe would be much help.

She needed to find help though, and it didn’t look like any of these shopowners were going to provide it, so she made herself keep going even though it was slow and tedious, and she ached from being wrapped in ropes.

Finally she reached the end of the street, and stopped to try and catch her bearings. A woman in a long dark dress stepped over her head and another steered a large pram around her, clicking her tongue in disapproval. Sunny was very tempted to stop and cry, but she didn’t see how that would help anything, so she continued to crawl until at last something she did recognise came into sight.

The bookshop owner ended up helping Sofia out from under the table and sitting her down in a big comfortable armchair while he fetched a mug of cocoa for her. Sofia held Noah there on her lap and stared at the door as though Count Olaf might walk in at any moment – which, she thought bitterly, he might.

Should she go out there, she wondered, and look for Violet and Indigo? What if they had been captured? What should she do then? But what if they hadn’t, and they were out there looking for her?

The shopowner returned with a soft purple mug of rich looking cocoa and a plastic sippy cup of milk, both of which he set down on the small table beside her. “There we go. Cocoa for you, and milk for the little one. Do have a drink, you’ll feel much better, and I’ll see about finding out who your parents are.”

“My parents are dead,” Sofia said without thinking about it, and then froze.

Her parents were dead.

She said the words.

She made it real.

She held Noah close and shook, rocking herself slowly.

“Oh. Oh dear. Well, who do I call?”

“I don’t know,” Sofia whispered, and it was true, because she couldn’t exactly say Count Olaf, could she? And Mr. Poe wouldn’t help her and she didn’t suppose the police would either, because Count Olaf was her legal guardian and therefore she would be classed as a runaway.

“That person works for my new guardian. He’s a terrible man.”

“Oh dear,” said the shopowner again, with the barest hint of concern in his voice.

“He’s going to marry my sister so he can steal our fortune.”

The shopkeeper pulled another chair – had that been there before? – over. “Tell you what. Why don’t we both drink some cocoa, and you can tell me about it. What are your names?”

Damien and Lavender had been walking for what felt like hours, with Damien now taking his turn to carry Phoebe when they saw it in the distance down the road.

“What’s that?” Lavender asked a little fearfully.

Damien shifted Phoebe against him and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “I think it’s a van.”

Lavender smiled very, very widely, and all three of them stepped into the road, their hearts pounding with the hope of rescue – or, at least a short ride.

Anything, they thought, would be better than this endless desert.


	21. No One Wants to be a Role Model

The taxi pulled to a stop at a large theatre building with dimly flashing lights outside. Violet and Indigo, still in their nightgowns, were pulled from the back and shoved into the building through a side door.

“Here we are,” announced Count Olaf with a smile. “No point in sending you home for such a short time! You can wait here in this room!” He pushed them into a dressing room that might have been a cupboard in a former life, with a single, dimly lit lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

“Yes, very nice, very nice. My associate here-” he indicated the Hook-Handed man. “-is going to stand outside the door, so don’t even think about going running off again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Indigo hissed through gritted teeth.

“Excellent. And do remember, dearest Violet.” He laid a hand on Indigo’s shoulder and stroked her hair with the other. “I may have lost the biting brats, and… misplaced your dear brothers in a _terrible_ accident-”

“What have you done with them?” cried Indigo, whirling round to face him.

He smiled. “Perhaps you’ll find out. _After_ the performance. In the meantime, I do still have two Baudelaires.” He patted Indigo’s head. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to lose any more siblings.”

He spun round rather dramatically and strode out. Violet rushed forwards and wrapped her arms very tightly around Indigo. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Vi, I’m fine.” Indigo wriggled free and took a step back. “What do you think he meant about the boys?”

“I don’t know. Nothing good.” Violet choked back her own sobs and tears, tugging at Indigo’s nightgown. “Here; let me see your shoulder.”

“And- And what happened to Sunny?”

“I-” Violet shifted, scrubbing at her tears. “I- I left her.”

Indigo gaped, pulling sharply away from her. “You did what?”

“I left her. I had to keep her safe from Olaf.”

“So you left her? Where? Is she safe?”

“She’ll be fine. Sunny’s tough.”

“She’s an infant! Who knows what might happen to her out there! Violet, what were you thinking?”

“It has to be better than whatever Olaf had planned for her.”

Sofia sipped at her cocoa as she gave a very brief explanation of her situation. Noah gnawed on his sippy cup, spilling milk over both of them. She sighed and took hold of it to steady it. “Noah, be careful.”

“Sun!” he said happily, which was usually his word for Sunny.

“No, Sunny’s with Vi, remember?”

And Violet was-

Well, she wasn’t really sure where Violet was right now.

Other than Noah, she wasn’t sure where any of her siblings were.

The bell tinkled as the door opened. A tall man with slicked back auburn hair in a black suit and sunglasses strode inside. He looked, Sofia thought, like the stereotypical rockstar had come to life. He cocked a thumb at the door.

“Are you aware there’s a very big dog sat by your door out there?”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t. Can you get rid of it for me, thank you.”

“Think it’s keeping away all the customers.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, and there’s a baby too.”

“There’s what?”

“What?” Sofia sprang to her feet, rushing to the door. Yanking it open, she was met with a chestful of far too pleased with himself Dog and a beaming Sunny. “Omigosh! Sunny! What are you doing here? Where’s Vi?” She knelt down to scoop her up in her free arm. The little twins were small, but not quite small enough that they were easy to manoeuvre at once by one twelve year old girl, and she wobbled as she stood, especially when Dog jumped at her. “No, Dog, don’t do that. You’ll knock me over. Sunny, Sunny, where’s Vi?”

She didn’t really need to ask the question. She was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

“Marvel,” said Sunny sadly, something which might have meant many things but in this case most likely meant _‘Count Olaf captured her and took her to perform in his terrible play.’_

“Oh no.”

She tried to imagine what would happen if Count Olaf managed to marry Violet and found she probably couldn’t imagine anything terrible enough.

“What’s happening dear?”

“He caught Violet. Probably Indigo too.”

Dog stuck his head through the doorway, panting. The shopkeeper shooed him. “No, no, I most certainly do not allow dogs.”

Dog wagged his tail.

“It’s okay; Dog wouldn’t damage books. Loki used to take him in our library all the time.” She smiled as she thought about it. It all felt so very long ago.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, who’s this?” asked the rockstar.

“Oh, this is… Sophie?”

“Sofia Baudelaire,” she corrected. “And these are my siblings, Noah and Sunny. How do you do?”

The rockstar waved a hand. “Terribly, as always. What’s she doing here? Thought you didn’t allow kids.”

Sofia shifted the twins against her as she suddenly realised what she had to do and it settled in her heart with a resolute determination.

“She’s escaping a most unfortunate situation. Her guardian sounds like a truly terrible man. Probably your sort of person. He wants to marry her underage sister.”

The rockstar suddenly looked more interested than bored. “Well, we can’t be having that now, can we?”

“I have to get to that theatre,” Sofia cut in. “Thank you for the cocoa.”

“Wait wait wait.” The rockstar waved a hand, peering down at her through the sunglasses. “Fancy a ride?”

Klaus was thinking as hard as he could. Elias was still encouraging Kyra to throw rocks at the windows, which she was doing with all her toddler might. Unfortunately, that still wasn’t very much, and they could see the train rounding the bend in the tracks. Loki was trying to kick out the window on the other side, and Finn was hitting the passenger side window with the very large book.

“I’ve read about trains,” Finn said, “in Harry Potter, and the Polar Express. But I don’t know what we’re meant to do when we’re stuck on the tracks in front of one.”

Klaus sat up very suddenly. “I do,” he said. “I read about it once. The track switcher.”

“The what?” asked Loki.

Klaus scrambled over to the window and looked frantically about them. “There! Kyra, Kyra the track switcher!” He pointed at the mental pole. “You need to pull the handle round!”

“Gotcha!” Kyra rushed over to the pole, but the problem was immediate. The handle was far, far above her head. Even holding her arms up and standing on her tiptoes she couldn’t reach. She looked round at the car in desperation. “Klaus!”

“What now?” shouted Elias.

“There’s always something,” Klaus muttered.

“Violet and Indigo are the inventors, not us!”

“But we’re all we’ve got! We just need something to help Kyra reach, that’s all.”

Kyra had picked up a branch and was trying to hit the handle round, but her small might was still not enough, and she was beginning to fear her brothers were going to die because she just wasn’t big enough.

“Even if she could reach, she’s not strong enough to shift it!”

“You’re right,” said Elias. “We need something to pull it. Loki, break the head off that elf.”

“At least it’ll stop giggling.”

Elias knelt on the seat and ripped into the upholstery. “Klaus, rip this free.”

Klaus did so while Elias tore a spring from the new hole in the seat.

“What now?”

“We string all this together.” He threaded the leather through the spring, and then tied the elf head to the end to give it some weight. “Here’s to hoping this works.”

“I don’t mean to rush you Elias,” Finn whispered, looking at the train rushing down the track.

Elias shoved the elf through the smaller window, which opened on a slat and he had kicked open earlier.

“Wind it in.”

They did so, lining it up and releasing it. The littlest elf flew through the air, landing several feet short of the switcher.

“Pull it back in!”

They did so as Kyra continued to hit the switcher with her branch. She thought it might have moved a tiny bit, but not enough to save her brothers.

_Clang!_

The littlest elf fell short a second time.

_Clang! Clang!_

Two more shots fell short.

“Maybe Klaus should have done this,” muttered Finn.

“You think you can do better?”

“Can we not argue in the moments before our inevitable deaths?”

_Boing!_

The littlest elf flew through the air and wrapped tightly around the switcher.

“I got it! Pull!”

The four boys pulled hard on the rope with all their might, which was far greater than Kyra’s tiny might. The switcher slowly inched round towards them as the train rushed closer and closer.

“Kyra stay away from the tracks!” Elias screamed.

Kyra rushed away from the switcher and to the side of the road ten feet behind the car. Inside the General Store she could see the Bald Man enjoying a soda.

Loki could taste the smoke from the engine now. He squeezed his eyes closed, convinced that these were the end times. Elias put the last of his strength into pulling, pleased with the thought that they had done all they could to survive, leant back against Klaus for comfort and tensed for impact.

There was an awful screeching noise, the blistering taste of smoke, and the train began to rush past.

“Yes!” Loki shouted.

“We did it,” Finn whispered.

“We did it,” Klaus repeated, a little dumbfounded.

Kyra rushed back to the car, banging frantically on the doors. Elias peered out at her. “It’s alright Kyra! We’re all alright!”

Shaking, the boys watched as the last train carriage pulled past and rattled away up the tracks. A familiar looking car rolled up behind theirs. The driver hit the horn. Kyra wandered back towards in and rolled happily. The driver rolled down the window and peered out at her.

“Poe!” she said happily.

The vehicle slowed down as it approached the three siblings, pulling to a stop in front of them. It was a large, square, gray van with the letters "V.F.D." printed on its side.

The side door rolled open. A small group of people were gathered inside. A bearded man smiled out at them. “Can we help you there?”

Damien shifted Phoebe against his hip. “We were, um, we were just wondering if we could get a lift?”

“Ah, but of course brother! Hop in!”

Lavender looked at Damien. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“What choice do we have?” He held his hand out to help her into the van and climbed in after her. The bearded man leant over to slam the door closed, and the engine roared as the van slowly began to move again.

“New volunteers are always welcome here!”

Lavender pressed herself close to Damien. “So, uh, who exactly are you guys?”

“Why, we’re V.F.D of course!”


	22. On This I Stand

Mr. Poe hurried into the General Store to find the Bald Man and argued with him at great length about unlocking the car, which he finally did.

“The Boss isn’t going to like this,” the Bald Man rumbled as Mr. Poe left the store to gather the five Baudelaire children by his own vehicle. Elias had scooped up Kyra, who really was too big to need carrying, and was holding her very tight to his chest.

“I don’t care what Count Olaf is going to like. Allowing a group of children to go off with a strange man who then let one of them wander along around train tracks is simply not good parenting.”

“He tried to kill us!” Elias snapped.

“Let us not exaggerate Damien-”

“Elias.”

“-the car wasn’t even in gear.”

“It was parked on the train tracks!”

“While the train was coming!”

“He’s sent Damien, Lav and Phoebe off to who knows where!”

“Children, children, please.” Mr. Poe stopped to have a long coughing fit into his large handkerchief. “Do get into the car. You’re going to miss your own performance.”

Loki looked at Finn, Finn looked at Elias, and Elias looked at Klaus.

“Oh no,” said Klaus in a very small voice.

“The play.”

Mr. Poe opened the door for them, and the children climbed one by one into the car, Finn first, then Loki, then Klaus, and finally Elias, who sat Kyra on his lap.

“If we’re quick, we might not miss all of the second act.”

Sofia had a handful of big regrets in her life.

She regretted eating too much pudding at one of their parents’ parties when she was five, and spent the entire night throwing up in the bathroom with Indigo stroking her hair.

She regretted jumping in at the deep end of the pool when she was seven and learning to swim, and needed to be pulled out by Damien.

She regretted climbing that tree with Elias when she was eight, and fell out and broke her wrist.

She regretted eating a whole chilli on a dare from Elias when she was nine.

She regretted sitting in Violet and Damien’s igloo with them when she was ten, because it then collapsed on top of them.

She regretted not arguing more with Mr. Poe when she met with him at the bank.

She regretted not finding a way for Violet to get out of this awful, awful play when she had stayed up all night reading with Klaus and Elias.

She regretted leaving her sisters behind when she ran like a coward.

And, right now, she was really, really, _really_ regretting getting in the rockstar’s car.

He had this big, black automobile. Sophia wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but she was pretty sure it was old.

She didn’t really care right now anyways.

The point was, he drove like a madman.

He was going far too fast for comfort, hurtling around the other cars on the road, veering onto the wrong side of the road, and at one point riding the pavement for several feet, forcing a number of pedestrians to flatten themselves against the nearest shops and walls. Sophia, who had initially set the twins down either side of her and buckled them in, had picked them up again and was holding them very tight to her, bracing her knees against the seat in front of her and squeezing her eyes shut as though that might somehow help with the fact that she had:

a) got in a car with a stranger.

b) got in a car with, apparently, a madman.

and

c) was currently driving far too fast through the centre of the city.

“Gonzalas,” said Sunny miserably.

“Flas,” agreed Noah.

“Wuff,” said Dog.

Violet had been separated from Indigo, who was, according to Count Olaf, to remain in the dressing room.

“To ensure good behaviour from my bride to be,” he said with a leering smile. Violet parted from her eldest sister with a bitter smile and was immediately taken off by the two White Faced Women to a small, dusty room covered in mirrors and tiny lights. There were people everywhere talking and laughing as they changed their clothes.

It would be interesting, Violet thought, if she didn’t have anything to do with it.

One of the Women thrust a lacy white dress at her to change into. She looked about herself, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere with any privacy, so she took a deep breath and resigned herself to pulling off her nightgown in the darkest corner she could find and pulling the white dress on as quickly as she could. Her mind was still working, with different corners trying to track down all her siblings but the main part still thinking about the play and the all too looming marriage.

“Isn’t this exciting?” said a voice, and Violet turned to find Justice Strauss standing there, wearing her judge’s robes and wig.

“Oh, Violet, you look simply beautiful.”

“You look nice too,” said Violet, noticing she was holding a small book.

“What’s that?”

“My lines. Count Olaf told me to perform the real wedding ceremony, in order to make the play as realistic as possible. All you have to say, Violet, is ‘I do,’ but I have to give quite a speech.

“You know what would make it easier? If you just performed a condensed version of the ceremony. It’s not like the audience would know.”

Justice Strauss made a very odd expression. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it would be best to follow Count Olaf’s instructions. He is in charge.”

At that moment, a voice called her through to the makeup artist, and she hurried away. One of the White Faced women handed Violet a flowered headdress, which she pulled on on top of her tangled dark hair. She closed her eyes and whispered a little prayer. She was fairly sure Sofia and the twins couldn’t be dead – there hadn’t been enough time – but the boys and Kyra could be, and so could Damien, Lav and Phoebe.

She couldn’t lose any more of her siblings.

Indigo’s safety relied on this working.

A man waved a clipboard in the air. “Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage by Al Funcoot is about to begin!”

Count Olaf hurried past, and then stopped to sneer down at her. “I advise you to do exactly as planned. If you do even one thing wrong…” He waggled his walkie-talkie at her.

“Yes, yes,” Violet muttered. There were a lot of people around and she felt very exposed and very, very alone.

The person of indeterminate gender hurried across the stage to join him. “Boss, we’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

The henchperson looked at Violet pointedly. Count Olaf huffed, waved his walkie-talkie at her one last time, and followed his henchperson to the edge of the stage. Violet watched them, wondering what that was all about. Count Olaf looked ridiculously angry, she thought. Maybe something had gone wrong and they were cancelling the play.

No, that wasn’t it, because the man with the clipboard called again. “Everyone, please, get in your places for Act Three!”

Count Olaf smiled and hurried off to take his place on stage. Violet took a last look around the stage, wondering if anyone could help, but she was sure they would not even if they could. Everyone seemed to be deferring to Count Olaf for the precious play.

There was applause from the audience and the curtain began to rise.


	23. Hope at the Edge of the Dark

Mr. Poe parked down the street from the theatre and hurried the children along to it. They were met at the entrance by his wife and two sons, all three of which were wearing very expensive clothes. Mrs. Poe’s hair was styled very nicely, and she wore a far too big hat.

“Oh, Baudelaires! I thought you were performing in the play!”

“There was a change of plan.”

She clicked her tongue and tugged at the sleeves of Klaus’s pyjamas. “You’re not dressed for the theatre at all. This looks more like pyjamas.”

“It is,” Klaus replied.

Mr. Poe shook his head. “I am going to be having words with Count Olaf. I know it must be difficult caring for so many children, but this is simply not acceptable. Come along now.”

Loki tried to imagine a world where Mr. Poe was about to transform into their protector. He would swoop into the theatre, he thought, and scoop up Violet and gather Indigo and Sofia and the littlest twins, and take them all out away from here.

Instead Mr. Poe herded the five Baudelaires and his own two sons into the theatre where, Mrs. Poe informed them, the third Act was about to begin.

The Marvellous Marriage, Violet decided, was a terrible play. The actors and actresses moved around the stage and performed dialogue that would make Damien wince had he been here. Count Olaf gave a great many grandiose speeches, which he performed with gusto. The audience seemed to be losing interest and were moving around in their seats. Violet tried to see whether any of them might help her, but she couldn’t see very well for the lights. Only one thing gave her comfort, and that was that right at the beginning of the Act, a familiar voice had started shouting ‘Violet! Violet!’ before being coughed at.

At last Justice Strauss came on stage, and to Violet’s dismay she was reading directly from the legal book.

When she was finished, she turned to Count Olaf. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

Violet shuddered, but then she thought of Indigo, trapped in that dressing room, and her siblings, stuck in the audience, and the others who were who knew where.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” she whispered.

“No!” she heard Elias shout from the audience. “Mr. Poe, do something! He’s going to marry her!”

“Of course he is, it’s in the name of the play.”

There were a few laughs from the audience. Justice Strauss took the document from one of the other actors and held it out to Violet. She stared at it for a very long time. Count Olaf cleared his throat and tapped the walkie-talkie.

Slowly, shakily, Violet reached out and took the long quill pen from the stand with her left hand and began to sign her name.

The rockstar skidded to a halt in front of the theatre. It was a run down, grimy looking building with flickering lights.

“Bit of a dump isn’t it?”

“Bit like Count Olaf then,” whispered Sofia, who didn’t know whether she was trembling more from the thought of Count Olaf or the car ride. She made herself stop holding the door handle in a death grip and use it to open the door. “Thank you for the lift mister.”

He waved a hand. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Go in there and get that bastard, yeah?”

She managed a smile. “Yeah.”

She slid carefully from the car, nearly tripping over Dog, who had jumped out ahead of her, and turned round to try and knee the door closed, since both her hands were occupied with holding the twins, only to find it swinging closed before she could touch it. The car sped off towards the end of the street. Sofia watched it with an open jaw. “Well o-kay then.”

Dog woofed.

“Good point. Come on; let’s go!”

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day – she swore she was going to take up running as a hobby when this was over – she broke into a dead sprint as she entered the theatre, Dog close at her heels.

They threw the doors open and flung themselves into the theatre. “Stop this play!”

“Gladly,” said Count Olaf with a wide smile, stepping forwards to look down at the audience. “You see, ladies and gentlemen, there is no reason to continue tonight’s performance, for its purpose has been served. This has not been a work of fiction. My marriage to Violet Baudelaire is perfectly legal, and as her legal husband, I am now in control of her entire fortune.”

“That can’t be!” protested Justice Strauss.

Count Olaf brandished the marriage certificate triumphantly. “The marriage laws in this community are simple. First, the bride must say ‘I do’ in the presence of a judge like yourself, and second, both parties must sign an explanatory document. And all of you are witnesses.”

Mr. Poe stood, glaring at the stage. “But Violet is only a child!” He coughed a little, before continuing to speak. “She’s not old enough to marry.”

“She is if her legal guardian agrees,” Klaus said miserably.

“That’s what we were trying to tell you!”

Count Olaf waved the certificate tauntingly. “And in addition to being her husband, I am her legal guardian.”

“Oh dear, oh dear! This is terrible!”

Justice Strauss turned on Count Olaf. “But that piece of paper isn’t an official document! It’s just a prop!”

Count Olaf handed her the certificate.

“I think if you look at it closely you will see it is an official document from City Hall.”

Justice Strauss took the document and quickly read through it, clearly thinking hard. “You’re right. This marriage is completely legal. Violet said ‘I do,’ and signed her name here on this paper. Count Olaf, you are Violet’s husband, and therefore in complete control of her estate.”

Mr. Poe coughed more into his hankerchief. “That can’t be!” He hurried to the stairs to the stage, followed by the rest of the Baudelaire siblings. “This is dreadful nonsense.”

“I’m afraid this dreadful nonsense is the law. I can’t believe how easily I was tricked,” she said. “I would never do anything to harm you children. Never.”

“It was child’s play, winning this fortune. Now, first order of business! Put the rest of the brats up for adoption!”

“No!”

“Separately! Into the far corners of the Earth!”

Violet eyed the marriage certificate, trembling.

“This is absolutely horrendous. This is completely monstrous. This is financially dreadful.”

“I’m afraid, however, that it is legally binding. Tomorrow, Mr. Poe, I shall come down to the bank and withdraw the complete Baudelaire fortune.”

“I won’t allow it! I absolutely will not allow it.”

“Oh, but you have to.”

“I’m afraid Olaf is right. This marriage is legally binding.”

“You see? Now, if you’ll excuse us, my new Countess and I need to go home for our wedding night.”

“I’m not your Countess.”

Everyone turned to look at Violet.

“At least, I don’t think I am.”

“What? Why is that?”

“I didn’t sign the document in my own hand, as the law states.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We all saw you do it!”

“I’m afraid your husband is right, dear. There’s no use denying it. There are too many witnesses.”

“I’m right-handed. But I signed the document with my left hand.”

“What?”

Count Olaf snatched the certificate from Justice Strauss and waved it furiously. “It’s

impossible to prove!”

“It’s not. I shall sign my name again, on another piece of paper, with my right hand and then with my left. Then we can compare both of them to that one.”

“I can’t see how a small detail like which hand you used to sign makes any difference!”

Mr Poe coughed deeply. “I’d like Justice Strauss to make that decision.”

“Justice Strauss,” Klaus said, “the law is very firm in stating that bride must sign in her own hand. It’s very clear.”

Justice Strauss thought, very deeply, and then smiled. “If Violet is indeed right-handed-”

“She is,” said Elias.

“-and she signed the document with her left hand, then it follows that the signature does not fulfill the requirements of the nuptial laws, which means that this marriage is not valid. Violet is not a Countess, and Count Olaf,

you are not in control of the Baudelaire fortune.”

There was applause from several people in the audience.

“Ngh,” Count Olaf snarled, pressing a button on his walkie-talkie. “Then you had better marry me again, correctly this time, or I-”

“Klaus! Elias!” Indigo rushed across the stage, gathering her siblings in a tight hug.

“Indigo! You’re safe!” gasped Violet.

Count Olaf scowled and glared at Violet with his shiny eyes. “You may not be my wife, but you are still my daughter, and-”

“Do you honestly think I will allow you to continue as guardian for these children, after the behaviour I have seen today? This attempt to marry Violet is simply the icing on the cake of your abysmal guardian abilities!”

“The orphans are mine. There is nothing illegal about trying to marry someone.”

“But there is something illegal about trying to have us run over by a train!” Elias shouted.

Justice Strauss gasped. “You, Count Olaf, will go to jail, and the children shall come to live with me.”

Voices from the audience began to shout for Count Olaf’s arrest and the return of their money, since it had been an awful play. The Baudelaires huddled close together, trembling.

Indigo looked at Justice Strauss. “Do you mean it? Can we really live with you?”

“Of course I mean it! I am very fond of you children, and I feel responsible for your welfare.”

Violet felt a stab of relief, and then a rush of guilt, because three of her siblings were still places unknown.

“Mr. Poe!” she said urgently. “Count Olaf sent Damien, Lav and Phoebe away! You must get him to tell us where he sent them!”

Count Olaf laughed. “Somewhere you’ll never see them again orphan!”

“What did you do to them?” screamed Elias, leaping forwards. Klaus caught his arm to hold him back.

Mr. Poe coughed heavily into his handkerchief for several seconds. “Now see here-”

Surprising everyone, Finn leapt forwards, springing at Count Olaf and striking him in the stomach. “What did you do with them?”

Count Olaf stumbled back a few steps, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “Perhaps if you children were to come home with me, your legal guardian-”

“No!”

“Do you really think-”

“Where did you send them?”

“Where are they?”

“Wait until the readers of the Daily Punctilio hear about this!”

“This really is quite irregular-”

The lights went out.

Chaos erupted in the theatre as people began to move around, loudly complaining about the sudden darkness. Sofia held the twins as close and high as she could, so they wouldn’t get hurt, Kyra wailed and attached herself to Elias’s leg as something hit her in the back of her head, and Loki huddled very close to Klaus. While all the chaos was going on, Violet began to make her way across the stage to where she remembered the stage controls had been. She had looked at them very closely earlier, wondering if she could invent anything like them. Finally she managed to find the wall and began to feel for the switch. As she did, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll get my hands on your fortune if it’s the last thing I do,” hissed Count Olaf. “And when I have it, I’ll kill all of you brats with my own hands.”

Violet cried out, but still managed to find the correct switch in the dark and flick it on.

Light filled the theatre, people began to blink against it, and when Violet looked round Count Olaf was gone.

“Where did he go?

Where did they all go?” shouted Mr. Poe. Indigo looked about and saw that not only Count Olaf had vanished, but his terrible troupe had gone too.

“They must have run outside while it was still dark,” Klaus said miserably.

“Well no duh,” muttered Elias.

“You have to go after him!”

“You have to capture him!”

“Fear not Baudelaires. A treacherous man like him shan’t get far,” said a new voice.

Mr. Poe looked around the theatre. “Jacquelyn, is that you? Where have you been?

“I was kidnapped by Count Olaf's associates and tied to a tree before I could tell you that the Baudelaires' uncle, Doctor Montgomery, was designated by the parents as their legal guardian and has been waiting to hear from you.”

“Doctor Montgomery?” asked Finn.

“Never heard of him,” muttered Indigo.

“Let’s go home, children,” Justice Strauss said. “We can worry about this in the morning, when I’ve fixed you a good breakfast.”

“Worry about this?” Indigo spluttered.

“Three of our siblings are _missing_!” Violet shouted. She was trembling, trying to imagine what terrible fate might have befallen them at the hands of Count Olaf’s associates.

Mr. Poe coughed loudly. “I’m afraid that the children must come with me. I cannot allow the Baudelaires to be raised by someone who is not a relative.”

“What?”

“After all Justice Strauss has done for us?”

“She nearly married Violet to Count Olaf,” Elias pointed out.

“We never would have figured out Count Olaf’s plan without her and her library!”

“We would have been killed!”

“Our fortune would have been stolen!”

“That may be so, but your parents' will is very specific. Tonight you will stay with me in my home, and tomorrow I shall go to the bank and look up this ‘Doctor Montgomery’ fellow. I’m sorry, but that is the way it is.”

“He's right,” said the newcomer, Jacquelyn. “There’s a vigorously fixed destination your parents had in mind for you, and it is not with Count Olaf or Justice Strauss.”

“This is goodbye then children,” Justice Strauss said, wiping her eyes. “I'll miss you very much.”

“We'll miss you, too.”

One by one, each of the Baudelaires gave Justice Strauss a hug, even Sunny and Noah, who didn’t even try to bite her.

Mr. Poe coughed. “Come along, then Baudelaires.”

“Wait!” Violet cried, and rushed backstage. A moment later she returned with an armful of metal, fabric, and wires. Indigo hurried over to help her carry it.

“Is that..?” asked Elias.

“Yeah. It was working, before Count Olaf’s thug broke it.”

“What a bastard.”

Mr. Poe cleared his throat. “Children, we really must be going.”

One by one, the Baudelaires followed him from the stage. Klaus gave one last look over his shoulder to Justice Strauss, and followed his siblings from the theatre.

They climbed awkwardly into the backseat of Mr. Poe’s automobile. It was a very tight fit in the little car with Mrs. Poe and her two sons there as well. Sofia was still holding the twins, and Finn had to sit on Violet’s lap, and Loki on Indigo, and Kyra on Elias, who held her very tightly.

“You were amazing today Kay.”

“Too small,” she said sadly.

“You’ll grow.”

“One day, you might be as tall as Indigo,” Klaus said. He didn’t suggest Violet, because Violet was very tall for a girl her age, and all her siblings looked up to her. It was unlikely Kyra would grow to her height.

Indigo leant against Violet’s shoulder. “What do you think he meant about- about Damien and Lav and Phoebs?”

Violet screwed her eyes closed to stop herself crying. “I hate to think about it.”

She wanted to believe that she would know if Damien had died, but all the experiments they had done on whether they could somehow _sense_ each other because they were twins had been duds.

Finn, Elias and Klaus tried to look through the back window at Justice Strauss, who was crying and waving. They waved back as the car drove ahead into the darkness. None of them could stop thinking about their missing siblings, and the terrible things Count Olaf might have had done to them.

When they reached the end of the street, Sofia could have sworn there was a large black car parked there with its lights off. She straightened up a little, but before she could get a better look Mr. Poe had turned the corner and it was gone.

Violet gazed out at the darkened buildings around her, and couldn’t help wondering if, wherever he was, Damien was seeing the same.

It had taken many, many, many hours, but Damien had finally managed to relax, leaning back against the side of the van. Phoebe was asleep in his arms, and Lavender was dozing against his shoulder. He wasn’t sure where they were going – he was pretty sure it was the wrong direction for the city – but wherever it was it had to be better than the vast desert of the Hinterlands.

Many of those inside the van were singing a terrible, tuneless song about happiness and various forms of disease, while others had fallen asleep like his sisters. He twisted, looking behind him out the window. Lavender stirred against him. “Hm? Damien?”

“It’s nothing,” he said as the first sign of civilisation began to approach, a series of small, rundown shacks. Lavender closed her eyes.

“You should get some rest too.”

He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek on her dark hair.

They still had each other, and, somewhere out there, he was sure Violet was taking good care of their other younger siblings.

The Volunteers Fighting Disease drove on into a darkening and uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are folks! This marks the end of the Bad Beginning! I hope you've enjoyed the ride with this crazy amount of Baudelaires.  
> It's... unlikely I will get through all the books, that's going to depend on whether inspiration strikes. However, I do have a full draft of the Reptile Room. It has yet to be broken into chapters though, so it might be some time before I start posting it.


End file.
